


Embers

by aihodineverlark, Flame6696



Series: Embers [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aihodineverlark/pseuds/aihodineverlark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flame6696/pseuds/Flame6696
Summary: It's been ten years since the war that ended the reign of President Snow and the Hunger Games—ten years that Katniss and Peeta have spent living a peaceful, happy life with their two children in District Twelve. That all changes the moment a mysterious girl with a link to their past shows up on their doorstep, forcing Katniss to call in some favors and stop a new threat before it grows to something that can't be controlled.Join Katniss, Peeta, and a whole new cast of characters on their journey to secure Panem's future for the better, and for good. Book One of The Embers Series.





	1. The Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic by my friend, Flame6696, so that means another rewrite. Basically: I shouldn't be left alone with his ideas, because we a) work extremely well together, and b) add tons of new content. So, enjoy this slightly expanded (and still a Work In Progress) second draft of Embers!
> 
> We have the first 11 chapters of this fic already re-written. As such, we will be posting those week-by-week, and hopefully you like what we've added!
> 
> Sincerely, the co-writer.

 

**Chapter 1**

As Katniss walks past the damaged bird statue leading into the Victor’s Village, she spots her husband, Peeta, leaned over the primrose bushes in their front yard. His back is turned while he works the roots, but he looks up at a shout from across the grass. A light, girly giggle follows, and Katniss shifts her gaze, too. There she sees her two children, Elsey and Trev—the dark-haired, blue-eyed girl and the blond, grey-eyed boy.

A smile lifts the corners of her mouth as she watches her son try to keep up with his sister.

Katniss had always told herself that she would never have kids. Between Snow’s iron leadership and the Games, the fear of losing anyone that she might bring into the world was too much to bear, and something she didn’t want to risk. That hadn’t changed even two years after the war, when she was still fresh from burns and losing her sister.

Then, something did. With the help of Peeta, she’d started to heal; and in that regard, they helped each other. They grew back together. And, even in light of everything that had happened, he found a way to still have hope.

She couldn’t help but be optimistic about the future, too. When he pulled her out of nightmares and still had cause to laugh about something she said the next morning… How could she not?

She knew he wanted kids someday. He always had, but he never pushed her, especially not then, so early in their relationship.

It was one summer morning that she spent out in the woods that made her rethink her position on the idea.

She’d seen a doe—one that, usually, she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.

But there was one difference from all the others.

This one had a fawn. And the sight softened Katniss’s heart.

Suddenly, the reasons that she didn’t want a family didn’t hold weight anymore. The war had long since ended; Snow had been replaced with a better president in Paylor; and the Games were out the door as soon as Coin had fallen with an arrow in her chest. As far as she was concerned, they didn’t know what would happen, but it shouldn’t hold her back from being happy.

And Prim would have wanted her to be happy.

Elsey was born when she was twenty-one. Trev came (sort of as a surprise, but a blessing all the same) three years later.

The memory fades as she walks past Haymitch’s house in the neighborhood of victors’ mansions. A majority of them still sit empty, with the only occupied being those awarded to herself, Peeta, and their mentor.

It sometimes feels empty, but Katniss secretly relishes in the privacy of it all. She and Peeta were able to raise their children in peace, away from prying eyes, and Haymitch was free to… well, drink, though he’d lessened from the binges of his old days. He’d taken up raising geese, which was good.

As she reaches the edge of her yard, Katniss wonders where the snippy man she’s known to see has been in the last few days. She doesn’t remember seeing him on his porch. And she doesn’t remember hearing the geese up at all hours of the night, squawking, either.

It strikes her as odd.

“Mama!”

The thought leaves as quickly as it came with the arrival of her seven-year-old daughter, who latches onto her waist. Elsey’s smile is as wide and energetic as always. It’s easy to forget whatever worry Katniss has when she sees it.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she says, bending down to drop her game bag to the ground and pick her little girl up. “You having fun?”

“Yeah!” Elsey says, loud in her ear. “We played tag and hide and seek and a really cool, new kind of tag called freeze tag… which was kind of hard with only three people…”

“Oh, did you? That sounds great!”

“Yeah,” the quiet voice of her brother pipes in. Being the shy type, it’s not uncommon for him to speak in short phrases. He walks next to his father as he comes to greet her. When he reaches her, the blond boy fists his chubby hands in Katniss’s shirt.

“Hey, Trev.” Katniss runs her hand lightly through her son’s unruly blond curls.

“Hi...”

In her arms, Elsey continues to talk.

Katniss grins at Peeta amidst all the noise.

He steps closer to peck her cheek.

“Good hunt?” he asks.

“Yeah, it went pretty well.”

“That’s good.” He leans down to pick up Trev. “Come on, guys. Let’s go inside. It’s pretty hot out here.” Before he turns toward the house, he grabs Katniss’s game bag by the strap.

“Thanks,” Katniss mouths at him through Elsey’s chatter. She’s talking about everything else she did that day, and what she’d like to do tomorrow, and how she’s hungry and hopes mommy caught the “bestest” dinner ever…

“We could have rabbit stew tonight,” Katniss suggests as they reach the door. “I caught a few in my snares this morning.” She sets Elsey down, and the little girl begins jumping up and down.

“Rabbit stew!” she echoes back excitedly.

When Peeta lets Trev go, he does much the same, only more subdued and with a few claps added.

“Sounds like it’s a hit,” Peeta says, ruffling his son’s hair. The four of them walk inside, and the kids immediately make their way up the stairs to where their toys are.

Once left alone, Katniss turns to her husband. He wraps the arm that doesn’t hold her bag around her waist to pull her closer. They meet in a short, chaste kiss.

Katniss sighs, and when she pulls away, her gaze goes to where their children went.

“I feel like they’re growing up a lot faster than I’d like,” she says.

“That’s because they are,” Peeta replies. “It feels like just yesterday that we decided to start trying…”

Katniss elbows him, even though he’s right. It doesn’t feel like ten years have passed since the war. It doesn’t even feel like two. Some days, she feels as if she’s still in the thick of it, and others, it’s like she’s in a completely separate world altogether.

The constant is Peeta, her little girl and little boy. That’s what makes all the difference.

“I know what you mean,” Katniss muses, and goes to take the game from him when he side-steps her.

“Ah-ah.” There’s teasing in Peeta’s voice. “I’m going to handle the stew. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? You were out a long time today.”

A smile spreads over Katniss’s face. She is easy to persuade on that point—at least today. It was warm once the sun came out, and she could go for cleaning up. She decides to head to the bathroom and grab a quick shower.

When she comes out, hair dripping in a loose braid, Peeta is at the stove and the kids are still in their room.

As she passes by him, she inhales a whiff of the spices and cooking vegetables and meat. It smells delicious.

She tells him as much.

“Did you have a good shower?” Peeta asks.

Katniss nods, reaching around him for a chunk of carrot from the cutting board.

Peeta pokes her nose. “Hey, you have to wait for dinner like everybody else…”

“Like you haven’t been ‘taste testing’ this entire time…” Katniss actually uses air quotes when she says this.

“Okay, true.”

“Is it almost ready?” Katniss asks.

Peeta checks the timer. “In about twenty minutes or so, yes.”

Katniss puts her hand on her husband’s shoulder, rubbing into the muscles at the base of his neck. Then she leans her head on him for a minute. Eventually she leaves with little words and wanders over into the living room to flip through the stations on TV.

She doesn’t watch it all that much, so when she does, it’s mostly for a general update. Most of the shows are political, anyway, which is not interesting to either she or Peeta. They’ve both seen enough propaganda to last a lifetime. There’s also Plutarch’s singing show, but that got old after its fifth season; it’s on its tenth now.

After quickly becoming bored, Katniss settles on an old interview with President Paylor. She doesn’t remember seeing it.

On-screen, footage plays of her inauguration. It pauses when Paylor raises her right hand.

The camera cuts to a man in a tightly-pressed suit.

 _“Now, how did that feel?”_ he prompts.

Katniss isn’t able to hear the president’s answer, because Peeta’s voice brings her back to reality.

“Elsey! Trev!” he calls. “Dinner’s ready!”

Katniss shuts the television off and goes to help her family settle down at the table.

 

* * *

  

Like most nights, dinner is pretty quiet while everyone eats. Only the sound of spoons on bowls is heard until everyone finishes their first serving of stew. Elsey sits across from Peeta, with Trev across from Katniss.

Reaching for another roll, Katniss asks, “So, Elsey, what did you learn in school today?”

Elsey pauses mid-bite, her mouth turning into a scowl that Peeta would say matches her mother’s. “Mostly boring stuff,” she answers, putting the spoon in her mouth.

She doesn’t like school very much.

“Oh, come on,” Peeta says. “There has to be _something_ interesting.”

Elsey sighs dramatically. “Okay.” She sets her spoon down next to her bowl. “They started talking about something called the ‘Dark Days’ today.” It’s clear she isn’t interested in the subject as she explains. “Some new history thing, I guess. Some war that started because a bunch of guys disagreed over… something, I don’t remember.”

“History is cool,” Katniss supplies, tearing off a piece of roll and popping it into her mouth. She exchanges a look with Peeta, who gives her a reassuring nod.

“Eh.” Elsey waves her hand in a so-so motion. “It’s not my favorite. I don’t really see why we had to have a war. What’s fighting going to solve? And guns are scaaaary.”

“I agree,” Peeta says. “But sadly, some conflicts can’t always be solved with words.”

“I wish they could.” Elsey picks up her spoon again. She continues to finish her stew, and, after, Katniss sends the kids to their room so she and Peeta can talk.

As Elsey and Trev go down the hall to do their homework, she says, “That was a close one.”

Katniss grabs her bowl along with the others and walks over to the kitchen sink. She begins washing them out, and Peeta comes up behind her moments later.

“I know,” he replies. He kneads his hands into her shoulder blades for a few moments, and Katniss lets the tension melt away from her spine. “Are you okay?”

"Yeah.” She continues to work on the dishes. “I'm just glad she hasn't gotten to us yet. I'm nowhere near ready to have that conversation…”

“I don't think I am, either,” Peeta admits. “But, at least her views on the whole thing are logical.”

“I guess.”

It’ll still be a year or two before Elsey will get to the unit that begins with President Snow. It’ll be another year before she learns about the 74th Hunger Games.

Two years. Then, the truth comes out—the ugly, bloody truth.

Katniss’s thoughts are interrupted by the insistent knocking on the front door. It sounds frantic.

“I’ll get it,” she says, rinsing the soap from her hands. She dries them, and Peeta turns the water off as she makes her way over to the front door. She opens it and sees an unfamiliar young woman standing on the porch, all green eyes and perfect skin, her dirty blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail. She wears a fancy blue blouse, though the sleeves are ripped and Katniss thinks she sees dirt on the torso.

She’s never seen her around here before.

“Hello?” Katniss asks. “How may I help you?”

"You're Katniss Everdeen, right?" the woman asks.

“Um, yes.” Katniss opens the door wider as she senses Peeta behind her. “But it’s Mellark, now. Who are you?"

"My name is Taylor Bernstein,” the woman introduces herself. “Can I come in? I need to talk to you about President Paylor. She's not as nice as you think she might be.”

“Um…”

“Yes, of course,” Peeta answers for her.

Katniss looks towards him in surprise.

“We may as well hear her out,” he mouths.

“Thank you,” Taylor sighs in relief.

Katniss awkwardly steps back to let the blonde in. All the while, the hairs on the back of her neck tingle.

This doesn’t feel right.

Peeta leads the three of them to the living room, then takes his seat beside his wife on the couch. Taylor takes the recliner near the television.

Before Taylor can say another word, Katniss cuts in.

“Why should we trust you?” Her incredulous tone is sharp even to her own ears.

Taylor sighs. She grips her knees.

“You knew my sister,” she begins quietly, her eyes darting around the room with suspicion.

“What?” Katniss asks, and squints to see if there’s any recollect. “If I did, it must have been a very long time. I’ve no idea who.”

“Well, that’s because it’s been about… twelve years. And I’m not from around here.”

Twelve years?

“Where are you from?”

“District One,” Taylor answers.

“That’s pretty far away,” Katniss says.

“Who was your sister?” Peeta asks from beside her.

Taylor takes another deep breath, hesitation in her eyes, before:

“Glimmer. My sister was Glimmer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New content = new comments, right?
> 
> We'd love to hear what you think. Please leave comments down below if you'd like to talk!


	2. The Decision

“Peeta,” Katniss says lowly, her eyes never leaving the blonde woman sitting across from her. “Can you please go shut the kids’ door so they don’t hear our conversation?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “Of course.” He rises from the couch to do just that.

When he’s gone, Katniss’s stare hardens.

“You’re related to  _ Glimmer _ ?” she asks, leaning forward and pointing a finger in Taylor’s direction.

“Yes,” Taylor answers. “I am.” Her hands still grip her knees hard in nerves. “I didn’t come here to hurt you. I came here to tell you about Paylor. You’re the only person I can trust.”

Before Katniss replies, Peeta rejoins them.

“I told Elsey and Trev to stay in their room until we come get them,” he explains, and his hand lands on his wife’s knee as he sits back down.

“Okay,” Katniss whispers to him. “Thank you.”

He squeezes her knee in response.

“I’m the only person you can trust? Really?” Katniss isn’t convinced. She’s going to need a lot more than some chick saying she’s related to a former Hunger Games contestant to go off on. And, why  _ her _ ? For all she knows, this could be some sick set-up. “And why’s that?”

“Because you’ve brought down a dictator before. And you know, first-hand, what happens when they go out of control.”

Katniss is taken aback by her words. “A dictator…” she repeats slowly. “You said that you needed to talk to me about President Paylor… that she’s not as nice as we think…”

“Yes,” Taylor says. “That’s why I’m here.” Leaning her elbows on her knees, she cracks her knuckles before continuing. “You see, things in the upper districts aren’t as peaceful as the news broadcasts make it out to be. Paylor has cracked down on them. She has already strengthened Peacekeeper forces in Districts One and Two, and they’re worse than they were even ten years ago; they’re more aggressive, more volatile. They’re more ‘keep’ than ‘peace,’ so to say. Remind you of someone?

She sighs. “I think she’s getting worse than Snow. There might not be any Games yet, but with the way she’s going, I wouldn’t be surprised if she implemented something worse. First, it’s stifling the Career districts—then, it’ll be the whole country. I don’t know what her endgame is, but this is only the beginning.”

“Worse than Snow? Worse than the Games?” Peeta asks. “That’s quite the rep to beat…” Sarcasm is evident in his voice.

“And that’s not all,” Taylor says. “Just like Snow did here, ten years ago, she firebombed District One. Only the Victor’s Village is left intact. And for that, there’s no reason. At least with Snow, we knew it was because of you two in the Quarter Quell as to why he destroyed this district. Paylor is killing innocent people with no remorse. Snow, at least, knew he had to keep an audience alive. I don’t think that Paylor shares his views.”

Katniss blows a breath out through her lips, and her gaze drifts from the conversation at hand to the framed painting of Prim hanging on the wall. She can still imagine the flames that engulfed her that fateful day.

When she looks back at Taylor, she sees equal emotion in her eyes, too.

“We both know how bad the Games were. We both know what it’s like to lose a sister, and a district,” the blonde says, “Do we really want to let what happened a decade ago resurface?”

The answer to that question is simple—no.

But what can she and Peeta do?

“Let me get this straight,” Katniss says. “Paylor is killing innocent people, bombing their homes, and… then what? Are supplies still coming through for the victims?”

Taylor shakes her head. “There’s no food, no water. If you try to steal, you’re executed publicly.”

“Why hasn’t this been on the news?”

“Simple,” Taylor replies. “Media blackout. To keep up appearances, I assume. She wants the country to believe she’s still this do-no-wrong, fantastic leader. But she’s gone unchecked for too many years.”

“Hold up,” Peeta cuts in, raising a hand. “If Paylor has such a tight grip on the district, how did you get out?”

“I had help.” Taylor runs her fingers through her hair. “But that’s not the big picture here. If we don’t do something, Paylor is going to kill everyone; she won’t hesitate.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Katniss asks.

“I see only one option.” Taylor’s face hardens. “I suggest we storm the Capitol and remove her from power by force. It’s the only way.”

“By force?” Peeta asks. “The three of us? How do you expect us to do that? We have our kids here. We can’t just leave them…”

He’s right, of course. They do have Elsey and Trev to think about.

“If you don’t do something, they’ll be in danger anyway,” Taylor says. “Paylor isn’t going to stop until she gets whatever it is that she wants—whether it be absolute power or something else.”

Another good point.

“I wouldn’t ask if I had another option,” she continues, “And, this is easier said than done. I’m sure the Capitol’s security protocols have been updated, but I have connections. My parents were well-known throughout the country, and they were well-respected, too.”

“Were?” Katniss asks.

“Yeah,” Taylor answers with a swift shake of her head. “They died.”

“I’m sorry,” Peeta says earnestly.

“It’s alright… It’s been a while. Anyway… I have some old friends in the upper districts, some even in Five and Six. Plus, I know one of Paylor’s daughters. It wouldn’t be just us doing this.”

Katniss shakes her head, overwhelmed. It’s a lot to take in.

Then she lifts her eyes and says, “Wait. Paylor has kids?” She didn’t know that.

“Yeah,” Taylor says. “I only know one of them. Her name is Jordan.” Clasping her hands, she looks at both Katniss and Peeta. “So, are you in?”

Neither of them say anything for a long moment. Katniss looks over at her husband, knowing he’ll take whatever side she does.

“I need proof,” she tells Taylor. “Physical evidence. This is all just some grand story that I can’t take as fact until I see something.”

“That’s a little hard to get with a media blackout.”

“Did you think I was just going to jump aboard?” Katniss asks.

“No,” Taylor replies. “Of course not.” She looks nervous again, like she doesn’t know what to say next. “Why didn’t I think…”

“Katniss,” Peeta pipes in, hushed. “What about Beetee? He’s still working in Three, can probably get us a look at what’s really going on. If it turns out to be nothing, well, then you turn your bow on this girl and we call her crazy. But I believe her.”

“Me, too,” Katniss admits. It’s true; she does believe Taylor. She stands. “Alright. I’m going to give my friend a call.” She walks over to a wall, where the phone is attached. Picking up the receiver, she spins the dial until the tone sounds in her ear.

Then, a cough greets her on the other line.

“Ahem, Beetee Latir. How may I help you?” the familiar voice asks.

“Beetee,” Katniss says, “It’s Katniss.”

“Ah, hello, Katniss,” he responds. “It’s nice to hear from you.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” Katniss says. “I need a favor. Do you know anything about Paylor going bad?”

Beetee laughs, like it's some joke. “No, I haven’t heard any rumors of the sort. Why?”

“I have a girl here claiming that her district has been bombed by the president, and it’s only just the beginning.”

“That sounds… a little far fetched,” Beetee says. He sounds skeptical.

“Say I believe her,” Katniss says. “She says Paylor has a major block on all the news outlets. Can you show me what’s really going on?”

There’s typing on Beetee’s end. “Certainly,” he answers after a few moments. “But, I can only go through a wide-range channel; something that all the districts can see.”

“Hmm. The Capitol TV station?” Katniss suggests.

“That’s a big hitter,” Beetee says, and laughs again. “Okay. I can do it. But, if Paylor is watching, she’ll know it’s me.”

“I need to know, Beetee.”

“Okay.” More typing. “Turn on your TV.”

“Turn on the TV, Peeta,” Katniss relays to her husband.

He stands and grabs the remote.

“The Capitol TV station,” Katniss tells him.

Peeta nods and begins to flip through the channels. Once he reaches the right one, they wait.

On-screen, the brightly-colored reporter talks about the current state of Panem’s economy. She’s pointing to a chart with a green line that goes nowhere but up.

Then, the image flickers, and changes.

“Katniss, look.”

The studio background is replaced with grainy footage, probably from a security camera. Smoke billows, making it hard to make out, but the gist of it is there… It’s the main square of One. Buildings are destroyed, more lumps of broken concrete than anything. The sky is grey as ash. Fires still burn in some places.

Taylor was right.

District One  _ has _ been bombed.

In her ear, Katniss hears Beetee gasp.

“Thank you, Beetee,” she says flatly. She’s in shock. She hangs up the phone, numb, and leans back against the wall while she processes what she’s seeing.

It only lasts a few more seconds before it switches back to the reporter, who stumbles to continue her spiel.

Peeta turns the TV back off.

There’s no way that they can let this stand. If Taylor was telling the truth about this, then it must all be true.

“Do you believe me now?” Taylor asks.

Unable to speak, Katniss nods.

“That’s not the only district. She’s threatened to do it to Two as well.”

“I believe you,” Katniss says. “We both do.” She looks toward Peeta, who nods. “We’ll do it. I’ll have to give my friend down at the station a call, he can get us a train. After that, we go.”


	3. Leverage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per schedule, your weekly update. 
> 
> Come talk to us if you want to know more! We're @fleim6696/@aihodineverlark respectively on Tumblr, or there's a joint blog for this series specifically: @theembersseries.
> 
> We look forward to any feedback!

The phone rings.

Katniss answers it, thinking it might be Beetee calling her back; or, in some strange psychic way, her friend from the station.

“Hello?”

It isn’t.

“Mockingjay,” an all-too-familiar lilt, lower-district in its twang, greets, “you’re smarter than I thought. It seems that my little ruse didn’t fool you for too long.” The voice is decidedly female, the voice that she heard just over an hour ago in an interview praising her.

“You’re right,” Katniss answers. “It didn’t fool me.”

“Shame. I was really hoping to leave you out of this. You really have suffered enough...”

From his place in the middle of the living room, Peeta mouths, “Who is it?”

Katniss narrows her eyes and mouths back, “ _Paylor_.”

All she replies to the president with is, “I trusted you.” It comes out low and through clenched teeth.

Paylor gives a cackle. “You never learned, did you, you pitiful girl? After all you’ve been through, you’d think you’d get the idea that no one can be trusted… not even me.”

“Obviously that was my mistake, thinking that peace could last. Throwing my vote for you.”

“Yes,” Paylor says, “it was.”

“Well, you’re not going to get away with it.”

“Hmm, really?” Paylor’s evil laugh sounds through the receiver again. “And what are you going to do, hop on a train and stick an arrow through my chest, just like you did Coin? All because she wanted a little recognition, a little power? You won’t be successful. You’re confined to Twelve. That ban hasn’t been lifted for a reason, Miss Everdeen.”

“It’s Mrs. Mellark, now,” Katniss corrects. “I got married, remember?”

“Oh, my bad. Give Peeta my best, will you?”

“Go to hell!”

“Ha! And take your dear, sweet mother down with me?”

Katniss stops short.

“What?”

“Yes, and that hunting partner of yours? That mentor? That wretched woman with all the wigs?”

Her mother, Gale, Haymitch, Effie…

“What are you talking about?” Katniss asks.

“Why, the heart you wear on your sleeve, of course—your weaknesses. You don’t think I wouldn’t take a page out of Snow’s handbook when it came to keeping my golden goose in line? Each of them has been summoned to the Capitol on my order. They’re already on their way here as we speak. If all goes to plan, they’ll do some consulting for my administration and be on their way, but… I wonder how you’d feel about starting another war if, oh, I don’t know… those trains never reach their destinations…”

The shock wears off as quickly as the anger replaces it.

“You’re wrong,” Katniss says. “I’m not going to just back into a corner…”

“Aren’t you? With one press of a button…”

“You lose your leverage.”

“And clip the Mockingjay’s wings. I think it’s a fair trade, don’t you?”

“No,” Katniss says. “I don’t. I think that if you knew anything at all about me, you’d know that I’m going to fight for the people that I care about, no matter the cost.”

“Even if it costs them their lives?” Paylor asks. “Even if—”

Katniss hangs up before the president can get another word in. The phone slams against its base, and she’s surprised she doesn’t see cracks forming in the surface from the force behind her hand.

When she looks up, she finds Taylor’s eyes on her. They share a nod.

“She’s got Haymitch,” she informs Peeta as she passes him on her way up the stairs. “And my mother, Effie, Gale…” She’s in her bedroom, rummaging around in her closet until the finds the box she’s looking for, perched on the top shelf. Inside is her trusty bow and arrow, a spare, because going out into the woods to get her usual one would take too long. There is also a hooded jacket that she plans on using to disguise herself once they’re out of the district.

“She’s not getting away with this. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m taking her down before we have another dictator on our hands.”

“I can get Sae to watch the kids,” Peeta offers. “We can let her know on the way to the station.”

“Good.” Putting the box under her arm, Katniss turns toward the door. “Let’s go, then. I don’t want to waste a minute.”

 

* * *

 

At the District Twelve train station, Katniss stands in front of a train. Peeta and Taylor stand on opposite sides of her. Katniss and Peeta know about train travel more than a lot of people. Since the end of the war, the two have been back to the Capitol on two occasions—once to attend Paylor's coronation, and second to have a small interview with Caesar about five years ago.

"So, who is this guy you know?" Taylor asks.

"Edan Jones,” Katniss answers. “He's a close family friend. He worked with my father down in the mines. After the war, he started working as a train engineer."

“Oh,” Taylor says.

“Yeah.”

"Katniss!" Edan calls out, walking towards the group. Katniss gives a small smile at seeing the familiar face of her friend. He’s tall, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. She walks over to him, and Edan wraps his arms around Katniss, giving her a tight hug.

"Good to see you again, Ed,” she says against his shoulder.

"You as well.” He pulls back. “What are you doing down here?"

"It’s a long story, but I need your help," Katniss says.

Just like that, he’s on board. She knew she was right in asking him.

"You got it. What do you need?" he asks.

"The short version? I need you to drive this train. President Paylor isn't as good as we all thought. Peeta, my friend Taylor and I are going to hit up each district, starting with Eleven," Katniss says.

"Alright, anything for you," Edan replies. He pats the side of the train as he reaches to open the nearest door. “So, what’s the plan here? Besides going to every district.”

Katniss, Peeta and Taylor follow him inside.

“We’re going to take back the country, I guess. Storm the Capitol if we have to.” Coming out of Katniss’s mouth, it sounds strange and far-fetched. But that’s what they’re doing, right? Paylor obviously can’t be trusted in office, and she can’t just let those she’s taken be killed—or, worse, used for her gain.

They have to end this.

Edan gives a short laugh. “Well, I’ll do my best to help you get there. I’ll let you know when we’ve arrived.” He starts to make his way to the front of the train, leaving the three of them alone in one of the seating cars. Taylor plops down on one of the chairs. Katniss and Peeta take their seats side by side on a small sofa in the corner.

"So, who's your person in Eleven?" Taylor asks.

"He’s an old friend of Rue’s family. Grayson Ryback. We don't talk much, but I try to keep in touch every now and then,” Katniss says. “We can trust him.”

The train jolts forward, almost knocking Taylor out of her chair.

"He won't be a problem in convincing, will he?" Taylor asks.

"Once he knows what's going on, he will be on board. I guarantee that," Katniss answers. Taylor gives Katniss a small nod, then leans back in her chair, looking around at the room. The buttercream wallpaper, plush seating, top of the line bar cart over by the wall... It’s all very familiar to Katniss. She knows it well; after the war, Paylor provided each district with a few Capitol trains for first class guests. This is one of them.

She wonders, with a smirk, how the president will feel about her stealing one for this trip.

"Katniss.” Peeta’s voice from beside her brings her out of her thoughts. “Can we talk in private for a moment?”

Katniss gives him a nod, then stands up.

"We'll be back,” she tells Taylor. Peeta takes her hand, and the two of them walk through the hall that separates this car and the next one. They stop in one of the many dining cars that this train houses.

"What's up?" Katniss asks, leaning against one of the walls.

Peeta’s voice is hushed with quiet urgency. He looks back the way they came for a moment before beginning, "Look, I'm all for taking Paylor down.” Another glance. “We didn't risk our lives for this to happen again, and I’m all for getting Effie, Gale, your mother and Haymitch back, too. Don’t get me wrong on that point. But, can we trust everyone? That seems to be a problem in the first place."

Katniss sighs. He does have a point. What Paylor said over the phone comes back to her now.

Shouldn’t she have learned from previous years not to put her full faith in her? Could that have prevented this mess?

She shouldn’t have been so quick to live her quiet life with Peeta in Twelve; she should have taken more agency for this country.

But, she didn’t. So, what choice do they have now other than to trust her friends?

Who else can she turn to?

“I don’t know,” she says. “Peeta, I really don’t. I see where you’re coming from, but we don’t really have a lot of options here. What Taylor told us is true, we know that much. Everything else is up in the air…” She takes a deep breath. "We just have to believe in who we are, and who our friends are. If we trust them and they turn on us, then we can only blame ourselves later... But, now? We have no choice.”

"I just want to keep you safe,” Peeta says. “That's what I've been doing since the beginning, isn’t it? This is no different. This is just another arena.”

Katniss gives him a soft smile, touched by his concern. “Yes.” She reaches to cup his cheek. “I know, you’re worried. But, you don’t need to protect me, just like I don’t need to protect you.” She leans to give him a peck on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He pulls his hand to grasp the one on his cheek. “Don’t think I won’t still try. To protect you.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Katniss says, stepping away. “Let’s go back to Taylor, okay? Iron out some details moving forward.”

Peeta doesn’t argue. He nods, then follows her back to the seating car, his hand on the small of her back as they go back through the hallway.

“Everything okay?” Taylor asks when they return.

“Yeah,” Katniss answers, taking her place on the sofa again. “Everything’s fine.”

She doesn’t miss how the blonde girl’s mouth twitches at that. “Okay.” It seems they’re going to have to learn to trust, too.

A few minutes later, there’s a crackle over the speakers before Edan’s voice comes through an intercom embedded into the wall, crisp and clear:

“ _Guys, we should be pulling up to Eleven here in the next five minutes._ ”

Katniss stands and walks over to the intercom. She presses a button and says, “Thanks, Edan.”

_“No problem. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to stay undetected until this train is reported as stolen by my superiors, though, so we’ll have to make these stops as quick as possible.”_

Katniss presses the button again to respond. “Understood.” She steps away to pick up the box she’d brought from her room, lifting the lid so that she can shrug the dark leather jacket over her shoulders. The large hood fits nicely over her face; it should help in concealing her from the cameras for at least a little while.

“Wow, nice threads,” Taylor comments from her chair. “Don’t suppose you have any more of those lying around, do you?”

“No,” Katniss answers. “Sorry.” The jacket is one of the many designed by Cinna after she won her first games. Somehow it ended up in the same box as her bow and arrow, which she’d found out while going through her closet the last time. It’s happy coincidence that she didn’t move it.

Peeta walks over to one of the windows and lifts the shade.

“Seems Eleven hasn’t changed that much,” he remarks.

“On the surface,” Taylor says. "Now that Paylor knows we're onto her, she might start going down hard on the lower districts. And that could mean in any way—economic, security, starvation…”

Peeta gives a disapproving hum.

The train comes to a stop, and the doors slide open. Taylor walks out first, her black boots hitting the hard dirt. Katniss and Peeta follow her out.

The District Eleven train station is located in the middle of the district, with mostly farms making up the surrounding area aside from a few sparse neighborhoods and community fields. Since the war, the lower class has been reduced by nearly 50%, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t still some in need. The Victor's Village, the Justice Building, and the upper-class houses are among those the northern section of the district. Everything down from that falls into the working class.

"So, where does your friend live?" Taylor asks as they walk away from the train station.

"His family was wealthy before the Peacekeepers killed them for siding with us during the war,” Katniss explains. “He lives a couple houses down from the Justice Building."

The group walks past the one of the community fields. Since the sun has set, everyone has gone in for the night. Next, they pass an array of houses that the middle-waged families live in, which are located right alongside the fields.

Walking through Eleven takes Katniss back to Rue—the young girl she was allied with during her first Games; a girl that died too young, just like her sister.

She imagines the little dark-skinned child jumping from branch to branch of one of the orchards. It’s a bittersweet image.

Soon, the Justice Building comes into view, and alongside that, the district’s Victor's Village. On the outside, it’s almost an identical match to her home district’s, with a few subtle style choices that better match Eleven. Such is the brighter paint job on the row of dozen houses, the greens and yellows rather than the muted brick lay of those back in Twelve. All of them sit empty.

Katniss remembers the two victors from this district: Chaff and Seeder. Both, who died during the Quarter Quell.

Katniss feels Peeta touch her elbow in comfort. He’s thinking of them, too.

The three walk by the Village, then by the Justice Building. Katniss and Peeta both have vivid memories in the latter. Katniss remembers saying a heartfelt eulogy to Rue and her family… as well as the old man being killed by the Peacekeepers; she also remembers Peeta promising a month of their winnings to Rue and Thresh's families. An empty promise, truly.

She doubts either of them got the money.

It was a day they both remember well.

Just past the Justice Building, there sits a fancy neighborhood. The houses aren’t nearly as nice as those decorated in the Village, but they’re still far better than those in the southern part of the district. Each one has multiple floors, marble-stoned steps, and thick, wooden doors with knockers.

"Which one's his?" Taylor asks, surveying the row of houses lining the street.

"That one." Katniss points to the fourth house down on the left. There’s a black bench sitting in the front yard as well as marble columns leading up the steps in addition to the marble steps. There’s green siding and yellow trim. It’s a house that looks like it belongs in District Two, not District Eleven.

"Well, damn!" Taylor blurts out. Peeta chuckles as they approach the house, stopping at the bottom of the porch stairs.

Katniss takes a deep breath before walking up and grasping the leaf-shaped knocker. Taylor and Peeta are close behind.

With the wind howling in the background, she lifts it and lets it drop three times.

Then she waits.

After a few moments, Katniss hears footsteps inside the house. The door comes ajar a few inches and Grayson stands, opening it wider when he sees her.

"Katniss?” he asks. “What are you doing here?"

“We need to talk,” she says in a rush. She pulls the hood off her head.

"We?" Grayson asks.

"Yeah, I'm not alone," Katniss says, motioning to Peeta and Taylor. Grayson gives a nod to the two.

"Ah, alright, come on in," Grayson says, though confusion clouds his tone. Katniss, Peeta, and Taylor walk inside the house, and Grayson closes the door behind them. He leads them into the living room, then takes a seat on the large, leather couch that sits in the middle of the living room. Taylor sits beside him. Katniss and Peeta sit on separate reclining chairs.

“So, what do you need to talk to me about?” he asks. “Why are you here?”

“Well…” Katniss gestures to Taylor. “First off, that’s Taylor. She’s from District One.”

“Okay…” Grayson’s eyebrows knit together, but still he offers his hand to the girl. “Nice to meet you, Taylor."

"You as well," Taylor replies.

“What does she have to do with this?” he asks.

“She has everything to do with it,” Katniss answers, and then begins to launch into the story, starting from Taylor showing up on her doorstep and ending with the call from the president herself—the threats, the blackmail. She explains the strife the upper districts have been through, and Taylor chimes in with reasons why they need to put a stop to it.

“So… she’s reinstated Peacekeepers in One and Two?” Grayson asks.

“Yes,” Taylor answers. “But, there is potential for things to get much, much worse. For the whole country.”

“Huh.”

“Huh?” Taylor echoes.

"So, she's basically Snow without the Games?" Grayson asks.

“Yes, that’s one way to put it,” Taylor says. “And that’s why we need to take her down.”

"Hmm. Okay.” Grayson turns to Katniss. “So, how does this involve us?"

"I didn't almost get myself killed in a war just to have some woman ruin it,” Katniss tells him. The force behind her words is on a level she hasn’t heard herself speak in years. “So, I'm putting together a team with the help of Taylor. A team that will end in District One, where from there we'll take the power back and end Paylor's reign of terror. I only have one question for you.”

"And, that question is?" Grayson asks.

"Are you in?"

Grayson rubs a hand over his chin and takes a long moment to consider it. Katniss and Taylor watch with interest. Then he gives her a grin and offers his hand to Taylor again, who takes it and shakes it twice.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’m in. And I have someone in mind that I’m sure will be, too.”


	4. Join Us

Back on the train, Katniss sits on one of the leather chairs of the living quarters. Peeta sits in one beside her, holding her hand between the armrests, and she runs her thumb over his knuckles absentmindedly while they talk to Taylor and Grayson. Both have taken seats on the couch across from them.

Grayson’s face has the shadow of deep thought darkening it.

“After the war, Paylor came to Eleven,” he says. “She was so much better than Snow. And, while, of course I was skeptical of new leadership then… I just don’t see how, now, she could turn into what you say she is. But I trust you, Katniss; that's why I'm here.”

“Thank you, Grayson,” Katniss says. “I know it’s hard to believe. It’s surreal to us, too. But with all that she’s done… I mean, I truly didn’t believe it myself until she called, threatening my family and talking about taking a page from our former dictator… And, the bombings… That’s when it all sunk in for me.”

“Everything that she’s done until now has been a façade,” Taylor says. “It’s all been to keep appearances up and keep the lower districts in line, while she releases hell on One and Two.”

"That’s quite the accusation. How do you know all this?" Grayson asks.

"I've been aware of Paylor’s antics for a while,” Taylor replies. “I had to work to put my plan into motion, though. And it's paying off. I have a girl on the inside of her regime.”

"’Inside her regime’?” Katniss asks. “Like, undercover?"

"Yes. Her name is Caroline Stewart. She's also from District One, and is probably the second-best archer I've ever seen." Taylor winks toward Katniss.

"How deep is she in?" Peeta asks, reaching to put his arm around his wife.

"A couple months—but, from what I've been told, she's moved up fast."

“And, you have a way to get in contact with her?” Katniss asks.

“Yes,” Taylor answers. “But I’d rather not use it unless absolutely necessary. It’s better for her to focus on her mission rather than all the crazy that’s going on out here.”

“That’s understandable,” Katniss says. “Is she aware of what our plans are?”

“Yes. She knows that we’re coming, just not how many we’re bringing.”

“Good.”

"She's good,” Taylor says. “Which is why I believe she can keep her cover no matter how crazy Paylor gets."

“How close is she to her?” Grayson pipes in from beside her.

“She’s high up in the Peacekeeper force; not the head, but high up.”

“Impressive.” Grayson turns toward Katniss as a yawn escapes him, and he covers his mouth with his hand. “How long until we reach District Ten?”

“Edan said we should be there by early morning,” Katniss replies.

“I think I might hit the hay.”

Taylor gives a tired laugh next to him, probably at the correlation of what he said and his home district. “I’m with you there,” she says. “I’m beyond exhausted.”

“We should all get some rest,” Katniss says. “We have a big day tomorrow. District Ten.”

“Yup,” Grayson says as he stands, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you all in the morning, then?”

“Agreed,” Katniss replies.

Taylor and Grayson head in opposite directions to the sleeping quarters.

Peeta shakes his head beside her.

“One of them is going the wrong direction,” he says with a chuckle.

Katniss purses her lips with a suppressed smile.

“Which one do you think will figure it out first?”

 

* * *

 

"So, this is your friend, Grayson?" Peeta asks.

"Yeah. Name's Bobby Stillwater. He’s one of the hardest working men I know," Grayson says just as the train's doors slide open. Katniss, Peeta and Grayson stand up and step out into the warm, morning sunlight while Taylor heads to the front of the train. The idea they discussed before now is that, while they get Grayson’s friend, she and Edan will refuel the train and restock the dining car.

They’ll meet back here in an hour.

Katniss pulls her hood over her head.

As another agriculture district, District Ten is made up mostly of livestock-raising farms. Because of that, the train station is surrounded by a multitude of butcher shops, as well as trading centers where you can auction off your animals for payment. Katniss has heard little of these since the war, not paying too much attention to Ten in lieu of Twelve’s and her own rebuild, but she finds the idea semi-interesting.

Grayson’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts.

"He lives on the poor side of town," he explains, and begins to lead the way. They walk down the main path, passing carts pulled by horses as well as carts bearing pigs in the back, before reaching the first section of houses. These remind Katniss of her old house in District Twelve, the one that she lived in before the 74th Hunger Games.

"I've always heard that Ten was almost as bad off as Twelve, but I didn't know the truth behind it," Peeta remarks, rubbing his hands together. 

Katniss spots a man pulling weeds out of the ground in front of one of the houses.

“Is that him?” she asks.

Grayson nods.

From behind, Katniss can see that he’ll be a good addition to the team—he looks strong, well-built, with short brown hair. He wears faded blue jeans, black work boots, and a white tank-top.

"Bobby!" Grayson calls out.

The man stops pulling weeds long enough to turn around, using one hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

"Gray, what are you doing here in Ten?" he asks, standing. When he walks up, the two men exchange a handshake.

"We have a proposition for you. You know how good things have been in the lower districts since Paylor took office?" Grayson asks.

"Couldn't be better," he replies.

"Well, there's a reason for that," Grayson says. “It turns out Paylor isn’t quite the fresh apple we thought she was.”

"How so?" Bobby asks.

"She’s choking the upper districts. Bombings, executions, floggings... You name it, she’s done it. It’s the same stuff Snow did to the lower districts. Apparently, our dear President Paylor blames the upper districts for most of the stuff that happened when Snow was in power. And, while she’s halfway right, that doesn't mean you kill innocent people for it.”

“Wow.” There is a crease in Bobby’s forehead as he absorbs the information. “Geez, man, I had no idea.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, Bob. I could barely believe it myself.”

“So, I guess that’s why the Mockingjay is here, then?” Bobby asks. “To save the day once again?”

Katniss peels off her hood.

“Yes,” she says seriously. “That’s exactly why I’m here. And that’s why we’re asking you to join us.”

“Join you?” Bobby looks toward Grayson. “Huh. We going to fight some battles, Gray?”

“If it comes to that,” the other man replies. “You in?” He holds his hand out.

“Of course.” Bobby takes his friend’s hand and the two share a half-hug, patting each other on the back. When they pull away, the dark-haired man extends his hand towards Katniss.

“I pledge my allegiance to you, Birdie.” 

His District Ten twang brings a smile to Katniss’s face. He reminds her a little of Dalton, a man she’d befriended in District Thirteen during the war.

“That’s really not necessary,” she says, shaking his hand. “But, thank you.”

“Just let me grab something from the house and then we can go,” Bobby says, heading towards his porch almost before he’s done speaking. On his way, he grabs his gardening supplies—to set inside, Katniss guesses.

When he comes back, he’s got a knapsack over his shoulder and a long barrel shotgun in one hand.

“You can never be too prepared,” he says as he approaches.

Katniss gives a short laugh. “Can’t argue that,” she says. “Hopefully, you won’t have to use that just yet.”

“Should we go?” Grayson asks.

“Yeah,” Katniss answers. “Taylor and Edan should be finished with the refuel and restock by now.”

The four of them turn to head back towards the train station.

Once back on board, they find Edan and Taylor crowded in front of the TV in the living quarters.

“What’s going on?” Katniss asks.

“You have to see this,” Edan says, and moves out of the way so she can.

What appears on-screen rattles all of them. Katniss knows it’s District One from the mountains in the background.

“She’s going public,” Taylor whispers in shock.

“She has to,” Peeta says. “Anyone could have seen the broadcast that Beetee hacked into yesterday.”

“What broadcast?” both Grayson and Bobby ask at the same time. They turn to look at each other, but the moment isn't funny; it's just coincidence. Everyone is more concerned with what's going on on the screen.

"It was a broadcast just like this one. Paylor was using a media blackout to hide what she was doing, and, to get proof of my story, Katniss had Beetee hack it," Taylor explains.

Grayson and Bobby don't respond, as everyone's attention is glued back on the television with the sound of a reporter’s voice when the camera cuts from the footage of a blackened district to that of a Capitol reporter sitting safely in a studio.

“ _ What you’re seeing now is the merchant section of District One,” _ she announces in a high-pitched accent, “ _ which we have just been notified to be the target of an attack by an unknown source. Multiple bomb strikes ravaged the area just hours before we went live. Signals were down so we just now learned of this. Many have been confirmed dead, and more injured. Numbers coming soon. At this time there is no further information, but we will keep you updated. Back you you, Raul.” _

The scene shifts again, to that of two news anchors behind a desk, one male and one female.

The male, probably “Raul,” says,  _ “After living in the peace of a new Panem for so long, we cannot at this time give any reason as to why this would happen. Already a decade has passed since the War by which we were led by Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay. And now, just as we finally find our footing,  _ this  _ happens!”  _

His carefully made-up face contorts in either fear or anger. The woman anchor puts her hand on his arm and whispers something that isn't caught on the microphones.

Raul seems to calm.

Then he continues, after looking down at his notes, “ _ And this begs us to wonder: Is there another war on the horizon? An enemy of the state _ ?  _ We hope to get an official statement from the president soon _ .”

The female anchor opens her mouth to say something.

Suddenly, the picture wavers. It flickers and changes again, as first grainy lines overtake the news anchor’s face and then the whole broadcast is interrupted by a wall of static.

_ It's another hack, _ Katniss thinks.

Out of it, three words come in bold, stark black:

**_THIS ISN’T OVER_ **

And Katniss knows exactly who they’re from.


	5. Distraction

“That has to be from Paylor,” Bobby blurts as Katniss shuts off the TV. Her eyes cut to him sharply, narrowed.

“It’s smart,” she admits, stalking over to one of the recliners and sinking down onto it. She unzips her jacket and tosses it over the back of the chair, then leans her chin on her hands as she looks up at the small group gathered; her team. “Very smart.”

Peeta appears at her side and begins to rub her shoulder. Katniss gives him a soft glance showing her thanks.

“It was expertly executed,” Taylor says as she walks over, too, taking a seat on the leather couch across from Katniss and Peeta. “She didn’t blatantly call you out—but we know it was for you. Whoever designed the hack was clearly under orders to make it seem anonymous, even though it wasn’t. To the viewers, it could seem like those responsible for the bombs commandeered it.”

“It’s a very smart play,” Katniss replies. “Paylor isn’t stupid. She knows that giving the districts a terror situation like this will put everyone on high-alert. It means that we have to be more careful from here on out.”

“This also means,” Grayson pipes in from where he stands, over by the wall next to Bobby, arms crossed over his chest, “that she might start to heighten Peacekeeper forces in the lower districts, saying this is the cause.”

Katniss points a finger toward him. “Another good point.”

“If Paylor distracts the citizens from seeing what’s really going on,” he continues, “say, with the threat of another war, she can do whatever she wants without being checked. All for the ‘good of the country,’ and the districts will have no problem believing it.”

“That’s one of the advantages of being ten years removed from a genocidal dictator,” Taylor adds in. “Everyone believes she’s a saint sent from heaven.”

“She really believes she’s in control right now,” Katniss says. “But she isn’t.” She looks towards Taylor.

“Because we have someone on the inside,” the blonde replies. “Caroline.”

“Exactly. Do you think she’s seen this?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Taylor answers, “but I’m sure she will soon if she hasn’t already.” She chuckles. “News travels fast in the Peacekeeping force.”

“Speaking of news,” Edan says, “We should get a move on. We’ve been sitting here too long, and we don’t want Paylor to get any suspicious reports and send a squad out on us; it’s best if we keep moving.” He's already walking towards the hall that will lead him to the front of the train.

"Good call," says Katniss. "Let us know when we're in Nine?"

"Will do," the engineer answers. When he's out of sight, the sliding doors shut behind him with a _whoosh_.

 

* * *

 

This is the third time that she notices movement on the stairwell that leads to the second story.

The hall is dark, but still Arden swears she hears footsteps creeping up the steps—but, as she peers around the corner, her gun pulled, she finds nothing.

She sighs. The paranoia that comes with the midnight shift is both unnerving and annoying at the same time. And with Paylor’s new protocols in place, anything and everything is highly suspect.

Even if it’s just a mouse that’s toying with her attention in the corridor.

“ _Kaustinen_ ,” the tinny voice of her partner and team leader, Felix, comes through her radio. “ _Status_?”

One of the new protocols in place is this: Every thirty minutes, there is a mandatory check-in.

“Quiet on my end,” Arden replies, lifting the radio from her belt. “Nothing to report.”

She leaves out the noise she heard, blaming it on suspicion.

“ _All clear here on the third floor, too_.”

There is a click as Felix releases the button, and he disconnects.

Arden turns and focuses her attention back on the noise she heard. With her luck, it's nothing. But, it's late. And this is her level of patrol. It just doesn't add up.

She decides to check it out.

She presses the button on her radio, but pauses before saying anything.

Technically, she isn’t supposed to leave her post. If she does, she’s supposed to inform her partner—but if it does turn out to be nothing, she doesn’t want to be responsible for wasting his time. Plus, she can handle this herself.

She decides to give him part of the truth, anyway.

“Hey, Felix? I’m going to take my break. Duty calls, man.”

She hopes he buys the lie.

“ _All good, A,_ ” she hears him answer after a few seconds of dead air.

Arden breathes a sigh of relief.

The staircase goes both up and down, and, after waiting to ensure she hears Felix disconnect again, she peeks around the wall.

Only the shadows and darkness meet her; no one is in plain sight.

Then, the floor above her creaks.

There is definitely someone up there.

Arden replaces her radio back at her waist, picking up her pistol. Holding it with both hands, she lets the nose of the gun lead the way as she starts her way up to the third floor.

The steps themselves are quiet, but the mansion is old. The floorboards creak under the weight of people quite often, and Arden is no exception as she reaches the top step and peers around the corner with her gun drawn in front of her.

She knows that Felix was assigned to guard Paylor’s master suite. So long as she stays clear of that, she should be able to avoid getting caught.

She looks left, then right.

A vague shape against the wall intrigues her. The darkness makes her doubt.

Suddenly, she wishes she had told Felix. Then, she’d be able to use her flashlight without fearing his finding out.

“ _A_?”

Arden startles at the sound of his voice at her hip.

“ _You back yet? I think I’ve got movement in the foyer_.”

Does she ignore him, and get his help? Or does she pretend she doesn’t hear?

After a decision made in a split second, Arden decides to act like she didn't hear him. She needs to find out what's going on here at this level. Slowly, she takes a few steps towards the figure, and who—or _what_ ever this is pays no attention that they're being followed.

Arden hopes her partner doesn't ask for her response again.

He doesn’t.

She does, however, hear his footsteps on the hardwood, faded by distance.

Maybe he’s going downstairs. Maybe he realized it was a false alarm—at least, where he’s at.

Arden exhales and steadies her hand, inching closer to the figure against the wall.

She gets a few steps away from the figure, and notices the ice white peacekeeper uniform. It's a Peacekeeper… but Arden knows they don't do patrols. Especially at this hour.

Why on earth would a Peacekeeper be snooping around on this level at this time of night?

Arden tries to come up with a right answer to her own question, but nothing in her head makes sense.

She raises her gun as she raises her voice.

“Please state your name and ID for the record, Peacekeeper.”

Under the white uniform, the person stiffens. It’s a female’s voice that replies:

"Caroline Stewart, second in command to Peacekeeper Clyd."

“Caroline” turns around. Arden can’t make out anything above the fact that she’s wearing her helmet with the glass pulled down to obscure her face.

_Smart._

“What are you doing on the third floor after your shift?” Arden asks, tone hard and interrogative. “We were not notified of any changes, any PKs in this wing… and Paylor is not scheduled to need militia detail until tomorrow morning.”

“I’m under direct orders from Peacekeeper Clyd.”

“Mmhmm,” Arden hums, unconvinced. “And what are those orders, exactly?”

_“A?”_

Dammit.

_Felix, not now._

"You might want to worry about your own force rather than worry about mine,” Caroline says smoothly.

"Don't you move," Arden retorts, moving her pistol to her dominant hand before reluctantly grabbing her radio with the other.

“What, Felix?” she snaps.

" _Oh, good. Did you not hear me before? I might have a disturbance in the foyer. Can you assist_?" he asks through the radio.

Arden glances between the corridor leading to the foyer and the Peacekeeper she has at gunpoint.

She knows she should go help her partner—but, she should also check Caroline’s story out.

“Yes, I can assist.” The words are out of her mouth before her head catches up with them. “Meet you there in two.” She releases the button and hears no further comment from Felix.

She hopes she made the right choice.

"You might want to get going,” Caroline taunts with a shake of her head. “I'm sure your _partner_ won't be happy if you're late..."

Arden scoffs at the usual arrogance of Peacekeepers.

She lowers her gun with a glower in the soldier’s direction.

“If I catch you here again without paperwork or authorized instruction…”

“You won’t.”

Arden backs away slowly, and only turns when she has to turn the corner so she can go meet up with Felix.


	6. Ties

The heat of District Nine isn’t terrible, but it is enough to make Kelly wipe the sweat off her forehead as she passes through the field, the wild wheat brushing against her fingertips as she moves.

She loves this time of early morning. It’s before the sun beats down too harshly and before everything gets too bright; where the late-sleepers are still sleeping and everything is quiet except for the late summer grass crunching beneath her feet.

When she reaches her favorite spot—middle of the hill, where she can overlook the edge of town—she takes a seat, crossing her legs as she sits. She pushes her blonde curls over her shoulder and leans her chin on her hands, just watching the little specs of people down below.

Odds are, no one will really disturb her up here. There aren’t too many people that know she likes to spend time here, and those that do know she doesn’t want to be interrupted. She needs her time, alone, to think.

And that’s what she does.

At the sound of footsteps behind her, Kelly doesn’t turn. This is also a place where kids often come to play. Kelly wouldn’t mind watching them, so long as they aren’t the Bucking Twins, who are incredibly loud and have a reputation to being in their Terrible Twos all day, every day.

She doesn’t hear any shouting behind her, though, so she figures it’s someone else.

Hopefully they’ll choose to sit further by the peak of the hill and not right next to her, she thinks. _That would be awkward._

She isn’t so lucky.

There’s a hand on her shoulder, and Kelly spots a familiar sheet of brown hair swinging as her ex, Arnia, walks to stand directly in Kelly’s sightline.

“I thought I’d find you up here,” she says, tall and slender and silhouetted in the sun. She crosses her arms.

They had a falling out, but they still talk. Kelly lifts a hand to shield her eyes as she looks up at her.

“What do you want?” Kelly asks. She keeps her tone sharp so that Arnia knows she's annoyed.

“You saw the broadcast, right?”

"Yeah," Kelly answers. "The one about District One?"

"That's the one. What do you think?"

"What I've always believed, Arn,” Kelly tells her. “That the powers at be can't be trusted no matter who it is."

She watches Arnia’s dark, angular eyebrows bunch together in question.

"Really? That’s what you think? After all we went through with Snow?"

“Yes.” Kelly leans back on her elbows. “All of that—the bombing, the talk about another war—it doesn’t feel right. And that hack? It’s too perfectly placed.”

“Oh, do not give me that conspiracy crap again…”

“It’s _not_ crap.”

"Yes, it is. This district has never seen better days! The lower districts are thriving, for once, the economy is great… We’re not in a 90% poverty rate anymore… You’ve just never liked Paylor. This is a ‘ _you’_ thing, Kel.”

"A ‘me’ thing? It's obviously more than that. Something weird is going on, and you would see that if you opened up your eyes."

Arnia scoffs. “My eyes are open, Kelly, It’s you who has her sights narrowed…” She begins to pace back and forth.

Kelly rolls her eyes.

"I'm sorry if I don't buy in to that whole innocence garbage,” she says. “You just want to see her as a saint. I saw that footage, and I remember what Snow did to Twelve. She's no different."

"You don't even know it was her—”

"—Who else has that kind of power? Tell me that!" Kelly argues, her anger rising as she does. She spreads her arms wide. “Look around, Arnia! We may be doing good, but when is the last time we heard about the development of the upper districts? When is the last time we heard of anything except for the political barrage that floods our TV screens? It’s suspicious. The government is trying to keep something from us, something that we can’t fight against if we don’t see it coming. And I think it’s a play for power, Arnia. Paylor has been in office six years too long…”

"Oh, come on! All you do is see the worst in people! It's always someone _else's_ fault. That’s why we didn’t work out, right?” Arnia stops her pacing and sticks Kelly with a glare.

“That’s not…”

“Yeah, the Capitol has that power,” Arnia interrupts. “But, we've seen rogues before! Do you not think of that?” She scoffs again. “Whatever. Have it your way… Your way of thinking is going to get you and your family killed, but… What can you do?”

“You’re not being fair,” Kelly says.

Arnia whirls on her, eyes hot with anger and something she can’t place exactly.

"Maybe I'm not being fair, but the truth hurts, Kelly."

"You’re one to talk. When your truth comes crashing down on you, don't say I didn't tell you so…”

Kelly doesn’t expect the slap that lands on her cheek after those words leave her mouth. She rubs her cheek, wanting to retaliate, but ultimately decides she doesn’t have it in her at the moment.

“I’m done, Arnia,” she says lowly, and points a finger away from her. “I’m done talking to you, and I’m done dealing with everything you’ve put me through.”

“No…” Arnia shakes her head, sly grin on her pursed lips. “You’re done, Kel. And this is far from over…”

Kelly moves to walk away, but at the last second twists to look her ex in the eye. “You know, there’s a reason why I ended it,” she says, “and this is only proof. You’re bullheaded, selfish, and such a control freak…”

Arnia laughs. “Have you looked in the mirror lately, baby?”

“Oh, _screw_ _off_ , Arnia!”

“Glady!” Arnia’s face contorts in disgust as she leaves Kelly standing there, fuming.

 

* * *

 

It takes Kelly an hour and a half to calm her frayed nerves before she can return to the Victor’s Village.

As she makes her way past the gates, her mind begins to wander. Her family is beyond wealthy, and always has been. Being the eldest daughter to the mayor has its perks—and that means that they already lived in a nice house. But, the year before Katniss and Peeta shocked the country with their Games, her sister, Delaney, was reaped. Their wealth only increased with her victory.

After her arena, Delaney was driven to a dangerous point of insanity due to what she’d done. And, as a result, Kelly's relationship with her has always been strained. It was their shared love for their family has always kept them in contact. Kelly still lives in the same house with her parents, and lives a quiet life. At least, until today.

The outburst with Arnia has riled her up. Kelly is used to confrontation, and usually welcomes it. But, _that_ was something else. She always knew Arnia was a controlling girlfriend, yet what happened this morning was another level entirely.

It was almost worrying—if she still worried about her like that. And she _doesn’t_.

Kelly shakes her head to try to clear her mind. It's the middle of the day, so her parents are down at the Justice Building. She’s happy that she’ll have the house to herself for a bit. It’s something that she feels she needs.

Still, she can't get the image of One out of her head. She knows there is something going on, and she wants to know what. She walks down the array of houses, before she reaches the row that her family lives on.

Just as she’s about to walk up the path leading to the porch, though, a voice stops her:

“Kelly Starksy?”

There is a groan in the back of her throat as she turns around.

Standing in front of her, she spots a woman with a hood over her head, but it doesn't hide her identity whatsoever: Katniss Everdeen (or, Mellark if the rumors and yearly interviews are correct). Next to Katniss is a man wearing a grey track jacket with short, light brown hair. Kelly doesn't recognize him, but he doesn't really matter to her.

"Mockingjay,” she says, “What does Nine owe the pleasure of your appearance?"

Katniss steps closer. “Your sister.”

“Delaney? What do you want with my sister?”

“Well,” Katniss says, “I assume you’ve seen the broadcasts about District One. It’s not your sister that I want, exactly. But I’ve heard of her sister.”

"Ah, a Victor knowing a Victor. That makes sense. So, it's me you want."

"Yes,” the man beside Katniss pipes up.

Kelly narrows her eyes at him, then smirks.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Kelly asks.

“Oh, right.” The man clears his throat and goes to introduce himself. “Grayson Ryback, District Eleven.” He offers his hand to shake.

Kelly surveys him up and down and ignores it. “Okay…”

"That's not important, anyway,” Katniss says. “The broadcast, you say you saw it. It shows that Paylor isn't the nice act she has portrayed."

"I've had my suspicions for years,” Kelly answers. “Starting with the fact that the upper districts never were on Capitol TV… That perfectly-timed hack…” She lists the reasons she’d just told her ex. “Just ‘cause we're safe doesn't mean the rest of the country is."

“You’ve got a point there,” Katniss replies. “As it stands, I’m putting together a team to take Paylor down.”

"And you want to know if I'll join you, right?" Kelly asks.

"Precisely."

"Well, I already see through her bullshit. So, I'm in.”

“Good,” Katniss says. “Then I’d say grab what you need and then we’ll head out. We can’t stay in any district for too long, and we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover before we hit the Capitol.”

"Let me just grab my staves,” Kelly says. “I won't be long." Then she jogs up to the front door of her house.

Once inside, the blonde exchanges her tennis shoes for a pair of heavier boots and goes upstairs to find her battle staves—or, the two hollow steel poles that she had custom-made in Two after the war. After that, she makes her way back down to the entryway and pauses.

She should probably tell her parents that she’s leaving. They’d be worried if she left without warning, obviously.

Grabbing a pen and paper off the side table by the stairs, Kelly leans over and begins to write a simple note which she’ll leave on the kitchen counter for them to find.

_Mom, Dad_

_I guess my paranoia about Paylor was right. The Mockingjay is putting together a team to stop her. And, I'm gonna go and help. This is just so you guys won't worry about me too much. Give Delaney my best. Love you._

_—xoxo Kelly_

With that done, she turns and goes to leave, taking one last glance around her house.

Her eyes find a picture of she and Delaney when they were little—the latter holding their youngest sister in her arms, an infant. They all looked so happy, so together, the three of them. The image brings a pang to Kelly’s chest as she runs her finger over the glass protecting the photo.

She only wishes that one day, they can be like that again.

Hopefully, they will.


	7. The President's Daughter

When they arrive in District Eight, the first thing that Katniss notices are the stark white uniforms patrolling the train station.

“ _You seeing this, Katniss_?” Edan’s voice comes through the intercom.

“Yeah, Ed, I’m seeing it,” she replies after mashing the button down with her thumb. “This is going to be tricky, isn’t it?”

She should have seen this coming. Of course, District Eight would be the first to get heightened security after the “random bomb strikes.”

“ _I assume so_.”

“They’re not doing checks, are they?” she asks, hoping that they’ll be able to pass by unnoticed as far as the train goes. It blends in well enough, being the standard for district trains since the Capitol upgraded a few years back.

“ _Not that I can tell_ ,” Edan answers. “ _T_ _hough I’m not sure if that hood of yours is going to cut it this time.”_

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Katniss says, immediately stepping back and unzipping her jacket. She knew the disguise would only last for so long. “So, any ideas?”

Edan laughs. “ _The art of stealth isn’t exactly my strong suit, Katniss. You’re on your own with this one_.”

Katniss goes to say something in reply, but turns at the sound of Taylor’s voice as she enters the car. She’s currently buttoning up a black blouse, her hair wet from a shower.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Take a look outside,” Katniss says.

Taylor peeks out one of the windows and sees all the Peacekeepers.

"Son of a bitch. I'll give it to her. She's not stupid."

“I’m actually surprised we didn’t encounter this sooner,” Katniss says. “Only now I doubt that we’ll exactly be able to slip in without some attention...”

“—Or a fight.” Kelly’s words are punctuated by her entering the room, long blonde curls pulled back into a ponytail and her batons twirling.

“Yeah, I think this might be a little much, even for you,” Taylor tells her and tilts her head in the direction of the window. She turns her gaze to Katniss. “I suggest taking two or three, max—because you still need backup. I can stay behind if you need.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Where’s Grayson?” Katniss asks.

“I think I saw him with Peeta and Bobby in the dining car,” Kelly answers. “And, you’ll want to take me with you. I can hide these babies better than you can hide a bow.”

"Good point," Katniss says, and nods her head in agreement.

"So, does anyone actually know Paylor's daughter?” Kelly asks.

“I do,” Taylor says.

"How so?"

"I don't know her extremely well, or personally,” Taylor answers. “I just know that Paylor tries to keep her and her whole family hidden. I've done my research. Her name is Jordan."

“And she's here, in Eight?” Katniss asks.

“Should be,” Taylor says. “I doubt she'd go to some safe house like the rest of her cowardly little family.”

“Why’s that?" 

"From my understanding, Jordan despises her mother. She wants nothing to do with her or the rest of her family."

“I can't say I don't agree,” Kelly says, crossing her arms. “If my mother was such a royal psycho, I'd have a hard time participating in family game nights, too.”

At that, Taylor snorts.

It isn't long before the three men enter the car, Peeta leading them. He walks over and presses a kiss to Katniss’s cheek.

“I talked to Sae,” he informs her. “The kids are doing fine.”

“That's good,” Katniss says. “Now that we're all here, I think we should discuss the plan.”

"I'm for the kicking-Peacekeeper-ass route. But, that's not the smartest one,” Kelly says.

"How many are even out there?" Grayson asks. 

“Enough so that we have to be careful,” Katniss answers. “While this isn't the Capitol, it's still Paylor’s home district, so of course it's amply guarded. Ultimately we're going to need to get in and out—I’d say forty-five minutes, if possible. The last thing we need is to get caught for our train loitering.”

"Getting out of this station is gonna be difficult in itself. Grabbing her daughter? Even tougher," Grayson says.

"I can see one way. You said this was an old Capitol train, right?" Kelly asks, exchanging a look with Katniss. 

“That's right,” Katniss answers.

"There's gotta be some old clothes on here somewhere. Something we can use to sneak past the Peacekeepers."

“Actually,” Taylor says. “There are. Each room comes with a few outfits—nothing crazy like back in the day, but still, normal enough.”

"That's our best bet, then,” Katniss says. “The less we have to fight, the better. Kelly, Grayson, and myself will go into Eight. I want to meet back in here in ten minutes so we can go.” She turns toward the door so that she can go back into her room and find an outfit.

"Here's hoping that they won't get suspicious of this train sitting here," Taylor says, peeking back out the window.

She laughs as Edan’s voice comes from the intercom, though it startles her, too:

“ _That makes two of us, Bernstein_.”

 

* * *

  

The walk through downtown District Eight is quiet. The disguises Katniss, Grayson and Kelly have chosen work like a charm; they meet no interference by the growing Peacekeeper presence as they blend in with the citizens on the street.

As it turns out, Grayson’s earlier theory was right: Paylor used the broadcast and subsequent “warning” as reason to strengthen militia protection in the lower districts, starting with Eight. On almost every street corner, there is a soldier in the familiar, armored uniform and helmet, baton and pistol on their belt. This continues even as the three turn onto the back road that leads to Paylor’s mansion, which is surrounded by a wrought iron gate—and that is guarded by a handful of those in the white uniforms.

Katniss, Grayson and Kelly crouch behind a neighboring cluster of trees.

"Awe, how cute,” Kelly whispers. “Peacekeepers... Time to have some fun." She pulls her batons out from under her clothes—in this case, the inside pockets of the long jacket she wears—and saunters closer. As she walks, she twirls her weapons, a grin on her face that Katniss can only say she’s seen a few times, most of those in the arena.

It doesn’t disturb or surprise her, though; with Kelly’s history, it’s understandable. The crazy that every victor has when it comes to killing—the thrill, maybe even the enjoyment of it—isn’t exactly what Katniss sees here. She knows that Kelly is a tad off the rails, but in just a few seconds, she can see how controlled she is, too.

"You need any backup?" she asks, already reaching for her bow.

"Nah, I got this," Kelly answers over her shoulder. And, just like that, Katniss knows she was right to pick her for this team.

She doesn’t press the issue as she watches the blonde scurry through the underbrush, parallel to the gate, or as she comes up behind the group of four Peacekeepers. Their backs are turned while they talk in a huddle that faces the main street. Clearly they’re distracted after a day on duty.

Kelly carefully steps out of the hedge when she gets close enough, her staves ready at the hand. Katniss sees her twist a portion of them before continuing. Then, after bouncing on her tiptoes for a moment, she hops up to snap the first Peacekeeper’s neck in a single, swift movement. Part of a chain reaction, she pushes the limp body toward the remaining three, who scramble to avoid it while she ducks their attacks by bending forward. Somehow, she ends up between the two of them, and she shoves the ends of the sticks into their stomachs, hard.

Katniss doesn’t expect the hit to do much. She expects them to stumble back, maybe. She _definitely_ doesn’t expect to see the two Peacekeepers seize up and then drop to the ground, either dead or unconscious.

The surprise is evident, both on Katniss’s face and on the last Peacekeeper’s, as Kelly stands back up.

“Woah,” Grayson remarks from beside her.

As he goes to draw his gun, the last Peacekeeper is met with both the staves driving through the glass on his helmet, and he shudders, too, before collapsing to the ground.

He, at least, must be dead.

“Woah is right,” Katniss replies, hushed.

She sees Kelly twirl her staves before putting them back underneath her clothes. Then she and Grayson’s awe-filled stares are met with a smirk.

“Well, it's clear! Come on!" the blonde exclaims.

That snaps them out of it. Katniss is the first to climb out of the underbrush, with Grayson close behind.

“That was impressive,” she tells Kelly as she walks up the path. And she means it.

“Thanks,” Kelly replies.

When they reach her, Grayson proceeds to pull the rifles from the Peacekeeper’s bodies, zipping them along with anything else he pulls off into a burlap sack he brought along with him, probably for this exact reason.

As he lifts a pistol to strap to his belt, he asks, “So, are they dead or just knocked out?” He says this as he lightly kicks a Peacekeeper’s arm. “I'm just wondering.”

Kelly shrugs. “Just KO’d, I think. I really was going easy on them.” She gestures to the last Peacekeeper she took down. “Him, though…” She shrugs again. “Might have hit him a little too hard.”

“Remind me not to piss you off, then.”

Grayson’s comment is met with a grin.

“We should probably hide them while they sleep,” Kelly suggests. “Don’t want to attract any extra attention than we already have.”

“Good idea,” Grayson says.

Katniss scans the surrounding area for a good spot.

“Bushes? It’ll provide some cover at least. Enough time for us to do what we’re here for,” Grayson suggests.

“As long as it works, I don’t care,” Kelly says.

“Okay,” Katniss says, nodding towards Grayson’s idea. “Bushes it is. Everyone, grab a body.”

They do. Then Katniss, Kelly and Grayson drag the Peacekeepers into the nearby foliage. Once the unconscious Peacekeepers are concealed, the group of three enter through the front gate.

Katniss expects to find more guards posted in front of the house. She expects to have another fight at hand on the front steps.

What she doesn't expect is to walk to the front porch with ease. What she doesn't expect is to find the front door unlocked.

As they step inside Paylor’s mansion, Kelly and Grayson are as surprised as she is.

“Too easy,” Kelly whispers. The floorboards creak under her feet, and she tightens her grip on her staves. “That was way too easy.”

“You're right,” Grayson adds, his voice as low as the blonde’s.

It’s eerily quiet as they step into the foyer of the mansion. Grayson sticks his neck out, pistol held in front of him, and looks both ways. The darkened living room sits to the left, and the main dining room is to the right.

“Stay alert,” Katniss says, nocking an arrow to her bowstring. She steps forward to take the lead, heading left.

Tension builds in her shoulders as they make their way through the room.

“Why aren't there any guards?” Grayson asks when they reach another decision: up the staircase or down the hall to the study.

Kelly answers him. “They probably weren’t needed. Paylor probably sent them away, because with only Jordan here… Well, sounds like she didn’t need protecting, except from the outside.”

Katniss picks the study. It's where she would go, if she were Jordan Paylor. She wonders if the president’s daughter will be hostile or friendly towards them, and their cause. While Taylor said the girl wanted nothing to do with her family, the possibility still stands that her intel could be wrong. For all their sakes, she hopes it isn't. Jordan would be a high-value asset to the team.

Mid-afternoon sun spills from the open study door. Nearing it, Katniss raises her bow, Kelly grips her batons, and Grayson pulls the safety on his gun.

“On my count,” Katniss says. “One… Two… Three.”

The three of them turn the corner into the study. As they do, a large brown desk in the middle of the room comes to view with a couple of books stacked on it. Along the wall there is a book shelf, and a woman stands in front of it. The sunlight glints off her dark, brown hair, which falls in a sheet down her back. She looks like she could be perusing her selection, but—

Her hand is closed in a tight fist.

Katniss lowers her bow and steps forward. She exchanges a look with Kelly and Grayson to affirm they’ll cover her.

“Jordan Paylor?”

The woman pauses, one of her hands raised to pull a book from the shelf.

Katniss takes another step forward. She unwinds the scarf she’d wrapped over her head, revealing her signature braid and face.

Jordan turns around. Her hands are raised and there is a sly smile on her face.

“Katniss Everdeen,” she says. “It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance—or, it’s Mellark now, right? Where’s your husband?”

At her command, Kelly and Grayson lower their weapons.

“Not here,” Katniss answers. “Your district is flooded with Peacekeepers. Me being out in the open like this is invitation enough for them.”

Jordan lowers her hands and steps over to the desk. She hops on top of it and crosses her legs.

“Smart move, then,” Jordan says. “Nice disguise, too. Sorry for the unpleasant welcome. That’s kind of my reaction to anyone.” She doesn't take her eyes off of Kelly and Grayson. The two still hold their weapons tightly by their sides.

“I don't blame you,” Katniss replies. “With the state of the country, and those bombings…”

She doesn't say anything about her mother.

“Yeah,” Jordan says. “And the fact that my mother is on one hell of a power trip?”

Beside Katniss, Kelly lets out a laugh. “I like her.”

Katniss smirks. “Me, too.” Though she still has her doubts, she doesn’t have too many options right now. And if the daughter of her newest enemy wants to help, so be it.

“So, I know why you’re here,” Jordan begins. “And it all has to do with Mommy Dearest.”

“You’d be correct,” Katniss answers. “I’m sure rumors have started to spread…”

“Like wildfire,” Jordan finishes. “It’s a good thing you stopped using that hood, or you would have probably been stopped at the gates. Word has it there are special orders to arrest one matching your description, Mrs. Mellark.”

That doesn’t surprise Katniss.

“It’s not the first time,” she says.

Jordan chuckles. Then she says, “Whatever your plan is, I’m in.”

It’s almost too easy. And while Kelly and Grayson share a delighted look, Jordan’s agreement settles hard in Katniss’s gut. There’s more to the story, she knows—something that she isn’t aware of. Why is it so simple for Jordan to turn on one of her parents?

Still, she shrugs and leads the way when Jordan is ready to leave her home.

And almost too soon, they’re on their way to District Seven.


	8. Regrets

Janey Raymond stands in the middle of the woods of District Seven, trying to slow her breathing.

She’d thought she’d seen her again, but found nothing. She thought she’d seen Clary—but she didn’t. 

Now she stands hyperventilating into a cluster of trees, hand over her chest and head spinning. Missing her one and only friend from the Arena dearly.

She hadn’t seen the Career from Two since the day she won her Games.

Janey could still hear her name being screamed from the top of the Cornucopia as Clary died.

It isn’t a pleasant memory.

Janey whirls at the sound of feet crunching leaves behind her. A second wave of panic grips her. In the distance, she sees dark brown hair flying.

“Identify yourself!” she yells, voice full of warning and hand shaking on the hilt of her knife.

“Relax, Jane,” a voice familiar to Janey says, “It’s just me. Johanna told me I’d find you here.”

Janey’s heart drops from her throat to her stomach in relief.

“Kelly?”

Kelly approaches her, batons swinging. Janey sighs.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

As Kelly comes closer, Janey tries to compose herself. Still, concern comes to the other woman’s face.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kelly asks. She puts her staves on her belt.

“Yeah.” Janey is quick to brush her off. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“Long story,” Kelly says. “Have you seen the news lately?”

Janey’s grip on her knife tightens for a different reason. “Yeah.”

“It's about that. Those bombings? They're not from an ‘enemy of the state.’ They're from Paylor. And there's more coming.”

“More?” Janey asks. She hadn't known what to think about that news report. As far as she'd thought, it was legitimate. Then again, she didn't remember much of that day—she hadn't slept well the night before, if at all.

And, she’d been with Johanna.

Maybe she'd been too wrapped up inside her own head and issues to notice anything else.

Kelly’s voice brings Janey out of her thoughts again.

“Yeah,” she says, “More. But we can stop it.”

_ Stop it? _

“We?” Janey echoes.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors? About the train?”

No, she hadn’t.

“Katniss Everdeen is putting together a team, Janey. She wants Johanna to join. I wanted to extend the offer to you. If you wanted, of course.”

Janey swallows hard at Kelly’s proposal. It’s a lot to take in.

“Why’d you join up with her?” she asks instead of answering right away.

Kelly shuffles her feet and leans against a tree before she replies.

“I felt it was the right thing to do,” she says, and her voice goes soft. “I didn’t want to be that person who didn’t act and regretted it later. If I didn’t do something, and Paylor went as far as to reinstate the Games… I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself. My family got screwed over enough from the last dictator we had, and after Delaney was reaped under Snow, I lost my trust in the government. I had to act. So I did.”

“And now you’re here,” Janey says, to which Kelly nods.

“Now I’m here. And I’m asking if you want to come with me.” Kelly pushes off the tree to stand at full height. “I know with your skills, there’s no way we won’t win. But I understand if you don’t want to.”

Janey knows she would. Janey knows that from experience with her sister, Kelly would fully understand if she didn’t want to get involved in something so violent and dangerous—so similar to her time in the Arena.

But Kelly doesn’t know of Janey’s guilt.

Kelly doesn’t know of the demons that haunt her from those fateful fights, those cold and lonely nights. 

Kelly doesn’t get that for Janey, maybe this is a way to make Clary’s death count; a way for her to redeem herself for the person she’s become in the years since the first rebellion.

“No, I want to,” she says. “I’ll join.”

She hopes Kelly doesn’t notice how hollow her voice sounds.

Thankfully, the other woman smiles rather than questioning anything.


	9. Propositions & Patrols

“President Paylor?” Gale lifts his hand to knock on the door to the office before poking his head inside.

“Yes, Gale?” In the ten years since she’d been elected, Paylor had long since been on a first-name basis with Gale Hawthorne, ever since he’d been promoted to captain and then to commander in District Two. She turns when she hears him speak again.

“You requested to see me?”

“Yes.” Paylor adjusts some notes on her mahogany desk. “Please, take a seat.” Gale nods and walks fully into her office. He sits in one of the two wooden chairs facing her desk. 

“What can I do for you, Madam President?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest. Paylor gives him a small reassuring smile before answering his question. 

“I just wanted to check in with you, see how you’re doing,” she begins. “I know my call for your consult was quite abrupt and my needing you here was immediate, and I also know this place has never been kind to you.”

Gale nods in agreement. “Yes, Ma’am,” he says. “I’m doing fine, thank you for asking. The room I was given, and the service… Well, let’s say it’s definitely better than my stay here ten years ago,” he says. He chuckles, too.

Paylor gives him another smile.

Gale relaxes slightly into his chair.

“That’s good,” Paylor says. “Very good. And I assume Mr. Abernathy, Mrs. Trinket, and Mrs. Everdeen are settling in well, too?”

“Absolutely,” Gale answers.

“Wonderful,” Paylor says. “I hope to schedule the celebrity special featuring them within the week. Hopefully I won’t have to keep you all too long from your normal lives.”

“I’m sure it’s no problem, President.”

At Gale’s response, Paylor grins.  _ This is all going so well…  _

“Yes,” she says. “I do have another question for you, though. It’s about Katniss.” 

Gale tenses up at the mention of his childhood friend. 

“Katniss? We haven’t spoken since…” He seems to struggle for a moment. “It’s been a few years. For, um, reasons.”

Paylor gives a hum.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. But, my question is this: Do you think she would be capable of another revolution if she saw the country needed it?”

She watches while Gale’s expression shows confusion at her question.

“Another revolution?” he echoes.

“Yes,” Paylor says. “Another revolution.”

“Last time I checked, she was just starting a family with Peeta in Twelve when I talked to her,” Gale replies. “I don’t think another revolution was anywhere on her mind. I don’t see why she would.”

“But would she be capable?”

Gale’s eyebrows furrow while he thinks.

“Capable…” he trails, then shakes his head. “Why are you asking me this, President Paylor? Does this have to do with those bombings in One? Do you think… Do you think there is an enemy of the state—terrorists, perhaps?”

As his questions grow broader, Gale seems to become more concerned. And that concern is fueled by an emotion Paylor knows very well, and finds very easy to work with:

Fear.

“We’re trying to figure that out.” She answers him vaguely. “There is a lot that we don’t know right now. All I know is that I don’t want to have to worry about the Mockingjay showing up at my doorstep when I’m about to send a strike team on the targets. Once we find them, that is.”

“Targets?” Gale asks. “You mean, you know who bombed District One?”

“My personal militant force is building a case against those responsible,” Paylor says. “They will soon be brought to justice. I do have one lead that seems promising so far, though.”

Gale looks overwhelmed while Paylor picks up a stack of photographs off her desk. She leafs through them, then passes one for him to look at.

It is of a young woman running through the woods. Her face is turned toward the security camera just enough so that the recognition software an analyst from District Five cooked up a few years ago could identify her. She looks oddly enough like her sister, a former Hunger Games tribute.

Gale seems to recognize her.

“President Paylor?” he asks. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Paylor replies. “All evidence shows her missing at the time of the first bomb strike.”

He reads the caption again:

“Taylor Bernstein? Sister of Glimmer Bernstein? From Katniss’s Game?”

“That precisely. Ms. Bernstein has been in some trouble before the bombings. It doesn’t surprise me she could be involved,” Paylor says. 

Gale slides the photo back across the desk.

“What kind of trouble?” he asks.

“Enough to warrant an investigation. She’s been charged multiple times with disorderly conduct before this incident. But, she fled as this photo shows. And then District One gets bombed? What do you think?”

“I think it’s something to look into, definitely,” Gale answers. “The lead looks promising.”

“Good,” Paylor says, “Because I want you on the case.” She closes the photo back into a file and hands it to Gale. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Gale replies.

“Good, Glad I have someone I can trust on this,” Paylor says, giving Gale a smile as he stands.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks.

“No, I’m good for now. You may leave.”

Gale does as he’s told, and when he’s gone, Paylor grins.

_ This is all going so well, _ she thinks again before settling back into her chair.  _ Katniss won’t stand a chance with Commander Hawthorne on the case. _

 

* * *

 

**** It’s another late night inside the mansion, and the halls are quiet. Arden walks down the hallway of the fourth floor alongside Felix as they do their hourly sweep of the building.

She is just about to ask him a question when they are interrupted.

“ _ Echo team _ ,” chirps the voice of their commander over the comm line, “ _ Status _ ?”

“All good here,” Felix answers, exchanging a grin with his partner. He shines his light over a large conference table before ducking out of the room. Arden follows, and they head towards Paylor’s office. “The conference room is clear.”

_ “Good, keep us in the loop. _ ”

“Will do, Commander Sirius.” Felix taps the outgoing button, muting his mic. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Arden rolls her eyes. “Why do we even sweep this floor?” she asks. “Night after night it’s the same: all clear. It’s Paylor’s personal office chambers. Who would be stupid enough to get caught snooping when they know we do patrols?”

Felix chuckles. “It’s just precaution, A,” he says.

It is then that they both hear a large crash come from down the hall.

Arden jumps, and Felix says, “That’s why.”

Then they both unholster their guns and begin to move down the hallway with weapons drawn. They get around a corner before a white Peacekeeper comes into view. It’s dark, but Arden can see some sort of device in the Peacekeeper’s hands.

“Hey! Stop right there!” Felix yells, pointing his pistol at the back of the Peacekeeper.

At the sound of his voice, the Peacekeeper doesn’t turn around, but instead slowly raises their hands up before they speak: 

“Or what?” 

Arden immediately recognizes the voice—it’s the same as the Peacekeeper she ran into a few nights ago, Caroline Stewart. Something seemed off to her then, and her presence now can’t be a coincidence. 

Arden steps closer to the woman with her gun drawn before responding. 

“Or we’ll be forced to shoot.”

Caroline laughs.

“Please state your name and ID for the record, Peacekeeper,” Felix says. “And tell us what that device is you’re holding.”

Caroline smirks. “Oh, this again.” She pulls off her helmet. “The name’s Caroline Stewart. I’m second in command to Head Peacekeeper Clyd. And this?” She shakes the device in her hand. “It’s an audio device.”

“Why do you have it?” Arden asks. She doesn’t lower her gun, nor does she trust a word that comes out of this woman’s mouth. “And what are your orders?”

“Clyd needed it, said the president needed it for something,” Caroline says, shifting her feet for a second before she continues. “If you want information so bad, go bother him.” 

“He’s not the one I’ve caught twice outside of PK patrol hours,” Arden argues, “You are.”

“Why did you need to get the device now?” Felix asks. He seems to ignore Arden’s statement of an earlier confrontation. “Why not contact our superior, and have us deliver it to you?”

“Too many channels,” Caroline answers. “Paylor needs this  _ tonight _ , right now. It was an emergency.”

“Okay, if she needs it right now, then take it to her. Hope you don’t mind if we follow you, though,” Felix says.

“Of course not. Anything to get you two off my ass.”

Arden doesn’t like this. She goes to say something, but—

“Good.” Felix lowers his gun. “Lead the way.”

Arden doesn’t move from her spot. She keeps her pistol trained on Caroline Stewart’s head.

“Arden,” Felix addresses his partner, urging her to lower her gun. 

Arden doesn’t. 

"A, can you lower your weapon? We're the ones in control here." 

Arden locks eyes with him. "You trust her? I've caught her twice now after patrol was over."

Felix sighs.

"Felix, I'm not lowering my weapon. She's an obvious liar!"

"If so, Paylor will deal with her, just trust me, A," Felix says, and neither of them see it coming: Carolina moves in and grabs Arden's arm. In a swift turn, she disarms Arden and holds her weapon in her hands.

"See, there?” Caroline taunts. “No weapon to worry about.”

Arden doesn’t have time to fight back—in fact, she barely gets her fist up before she reels backward from the force of the pistol slapping her across the face.

The next thing she knows, everything goes black.


	10. Rank & Risk

When Arden comes to, Felix hovers over her, checking her for injury.

“You’ve got quite the bump there,” he says, “but you’ll be fine.” Then he pulls back to sit on his heels, rubbing his own head. Arden sits up.

“Where did she go?” she asks. She looks around the room they’re in—one of the few studies located on the floor—and feels the plush carpet around her for her gun and radio. She finds both.

 _Caroline must have moved us_ , she thinks.

“I don’t know.” Felix winces. “Last thing I remember is hitting the floor.”

“Me, too,” Arden says. She checks the clip of her pistol before holstering it at her hip and putting the radio back at her belt. Then she stands.

Felix does, too.

“We have to find her,” Arden says. Her voice is hard, and her head hurts.

“No,” Felix says, “We need to report this to Commander Clyd first, A. It’s protocol.”

“Protocol?” How can he care about protocol at a time like this? “We have to find her before she hurts anyone else!”

“Arden,” Felix shakes his head, “She’s long gone by now. We don’t know how long we were out. We probably missed check in. And—”

At that moment, a voice comes through his radio.

“ _Echo Team, do you read? Over, over. It has been thirty seven minutes since last check in. Is everything alright? Do you need back up?_ ”

Arden sighs while Felix reaches to answer their superior.

She doesn’t want to listen, but she knows he’s right.

“Command, this is Echo Team leader Felix Alvera.” Felix exchanges a look with Arden. “We do not need backup, but we do need medic. Kaustinen and I were in a scuffle with a PK out after shift, and it’s clear their intentions were not of keeping peace. They knocked us out, and have disappeared. We ID’d the Peacekeeper as second in command Caroline Stewart. She was last seen with an audio device, claiming orders from the president."

 _“Caroline Stewart?”_ the commander asks. _“Odd. I’ll get Peacekeeper Clyd to talk to her and see of her intentions. It’ll be on him as far as her discipline goes. I’ll send that medic right away, Felix.”_

The line disconnects.

Arden looks back over at Felix as he replaces his radio at his belt.

“I don’t need a medic, Felix.” She feels inadequate at the idea. Inadequate because this happened in the first place.

“Yes, you do.” Felix bends and picks up his discarded flashlight off the ground. “We both do. We were hit pretty hard. Could have concussions. This is a stupid thing to argue me about, A.”

“I still think we should go after her.”

“That may be, but I'm team leader.”

Is he pulling rank?

“Felix,” Arden starts, but he cuts her off.

“I've already reported it, Arden. It's been handled.”

Has it?

Arden doesn't think so.

Still, she says:

“Fine, Felix. But, I will take action if I see her again doing something she isn’t supposed to be doing. That’s nonnegotiable.”

Felix sighs before he nods. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, A.” He looks toward the door at the sight of lights on the wall outside. “Come on, medics are here.”

Nodding, Arden follows her partner into the hall.

 

* * *

 

It’s dark by the time Taylor, Jordan, and Katniss make their way back to the train in District Six. With them is Rae Ardezonne, a mechanic who also happens to be skilled in medicine—a lucky find, if you ask Kelly. According to Taylor, she worked in a makeshift hospital during the revolution and opened her own vehicle repair shop when the war was over; recently, though, she’s been helping in the clinics, with all that’s been going on.

Kelly is starting to think that this team is made up of a lot of “lucky” people.

After the doors slide closed behind the group, and they’re on their way to District Five, the chatter begins. Katniss welcomes Rae to the team and introduces her; Jordan slips away, saying she needs a drink; and Taylor walks over to where Kelly sits.

“How was it?” Kelly asks, sitting straighter in the plush chair of the dining car. She shuffles a deck of cards she found in her room between her hands, deciding to be cordial. She doesn't know Taylor well.

“It was okay, I think,” Taylor says. “We got in and out pretty quick, which is good.”

“But?” Kelly senses it coming.

“But… Something felt off.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Taylor says, “As we were walking through the district… I felt like I was being watched.”

“Watched?” Kelly asks. This can't be good. “Watched by who?”

“I'm not sure. It was just… a feeling.” Taylor shoves her hands in her pockets. “And, when we were getting Rae… It all felt too easy. There was no resistance. Not even after Katniss took off her disguise.”

“Hmm.” Kelly sets her deck of cards on a nearby table. “It's still a win, isn't it?”

“I guess.” Taylor doesn't seem convinced.

“Have you told Katniss about this?”

Taylor shakes her head. “It's not like I've been threatened. Besides, we're leaving Six. We're getting close. And the closer we get to the Capitol, the more anxious I get. Maybe it's just that.”

“Maybe,” Kelly says. Then: “Not that it’s any of my business, but is it because we’re getting closer to One?”

Taylor shrugs. “Possibly. I’ve been looking over my shoulder for so long since I left. And with everything that's happened, it just seems to get worse and worse with each passing day.”

“I can understand that,” Kelly replies, and it's true: Ever since her fight with Arnia in Nine, she's felt herself looking over her shoulder, too. When she wakes up in the morning and walks the halls of the train; when she goes to visit Janey some nights while they're travelling; when she's cleaning her staves. She'll feel like she's being watched, too, and turn only to see no one.

And it's not that she's afraid. She's cautious, like Taylor.

After the way they left things, Kelly is concerned about how Arnia will handle it. She has never been known to take these kind of things well, even resorting to violence sometimes. She's been arrested by the Peacekeepers on multiple accounts of assault. If you're an enemy of Arnia Kutchev, you're in trouble.

And Kelly thinks that, after their latest end of fire and spitting words, she might have made an enemy out of herself. She has no idea how it will end.

“But that's what we signed up for, right?” she asks.

Taylor nods. “It wasn't my first choice of action, but yes. If no one else is going to see what's happening, we have to do something ourselves. It's why I asked Katniss to help in the first place.”

Kelly nods; she likes Taylor so far. She reaches for her cards again.

“Well, hopefully we can do what others can’t,” she says, flipping a black king between her fingers. “I just don’t want to see a repeat, you know? Enough people died the first time around.”

Taylor nods her head in agreement. “Exactly. Hopefully District Five goes off without a hitch.”


	11. Backwards

Looking over his shoulder, Austin Underwood tries to look as normal as possible as he squints at the wall of text on his computer screen.

The message had come in late last night, embedded in a software update he received from Beetee Latir’s offices in District Three. He has been trying to crack it ever since—one, because the update wouldn’t install on the program, tipping him off that something was up; and two, because he’s curious.

 _“R zn rm gilfyov,”_ reads the first line. Austin rubs his hand over his forehead.

What does it mean?

He knows it’s for him. As a systems analyst for the power plants of District Five, he deals in code every day. Knows what to look for, knows when it’s been tampered with, knows how to fix it; it’s his job.

So he knew when he saw the last four digits of his ID number in the lines, bracketing a jumble of gibberish, it was a callout.

But from who?

Austin scans the chunk of code again:

_ <0459> _

_R zn rm gilfyov._

_Kzboli szh gzpvm nv yvxzfhv lu hlnvgsrmt R szev wlmv._

_R mvvw blf gl wl hlnvgsrmt uli nv._ _  
_ _Pzgmrhh Veviwvvm droo xlnv gl Wrhgirxg Urev yb gizrm._

_Qlrm svi._

_Hsv droo vckozrm vevibgsrmt._

_Svok svi gzpv wldm Kzboli, uli gsrmth ziv mlg zh gsvb hvvn._

_Dv ziv zoo rm wzmtvi._

_ <0459> _

He sighs. He can’t make any sense of it. No code-related bit of information explains it.

_What does it mean?_

“Hey, Austin?” one of the female analysts calls from her station, and Austin turns. He recognizes her as one of his colleagues and former classmates, Darla.

“Yeah?”

“I'm trying to fix this line of code, but it's not making any sense. Can you take a look at it?”

“Sure.” Austin rolls his chair across the floor. He pulls up to her screen, and looks at the highlighted block of text.

And he sees it again.

The last four digits of his ID number.

_ <0459> _

_Y.O_ _  
_ _V.Z_ _  
_ _V.G_ _  
_ _G.R_ _  
_ _V.I_   
V

_ <0459> _

“Well?” Darla asks.

It's another message.

“Uh,” Austin grabs a pen from his pocket and scribbles down the letters he sees, “When did you start working on this?”

“Today,” Darla answers. “I got a notice about the bug last night.”

 _Last night._ The same as the first message.

“Okay.” Austin tries to appear unfazed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

* * *

 

Janey wakes with the sun, not because of habit, but because of the vision of a boot coming down on her wrist that clouds her eyes when she opens them.

The dreams have been getting worse since she started sleeping on a Capitol train again; the dreams, and the anxiety. It’s why she chose quarters further from everyone else, and why she doesn’t bother trying to go back to sleep now, even though it’ll be hours yet before they’re in Five, before they’re one step closer to ending it all. This morning she decides to pull on a thin long sleeved shirt and pants and head for the caboose.

There, she finds Kelly.

“Couldn't sleep either?” Kelly asks. When they lock eyes, eyes that share the same circles of lost sleep, Janey smiles. And she almost sighs in relief at not having to put her brave face on just yet. She can be real with Kelly, because she understands. Because of her sister.

“No,” she admits, “Not with my past chasing me every time I lie in those sheets.”

Kelly nods, and turns from the window. “I know how that is. Do you want to talk about it?”

Janey walks over to sit on the wraparound couch lining the windows. She doesn't, not really. Then: “I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” she says jokingly. She’s trying to deflect. So she doesn't expect Kelly to answer.

But she does.

“Okay.” Kelly leans back and crosses her legs. “I’ve been thinking about my sister, Delaney.”

“Delaney…” Janey remembers her. “She won the Games after mine, right?”

“Yeah.” Kelly’s face falls. “I’m just worried. She’s in the Capitol right now, and she could be in trouble.”

Janey gets that—being worried for the people you love, your family.

Even if you haven’t spoken to them in years.

She knows that all too well.

“I think we all feel that way about someone,” she says. “Especially now, with Paylor and everything...” Then she shakes her head from her thinking and tries to reassure Kelly with a smile.

“Yeah.” The moment is broken by Kelly clearing her throat. “Exactly. I don’t want Paylor to touch her.” She seems thrown, like that wasn't what she was thinking, but she’s talking again before Janey can ask why. “Now you.”

“Oh, right.” Janey clasps her hands tight, clamming up. “It’s just… my Games.”

“Oh. Your Games,” Kelly echoes, then asks, “Is it the nightmares? I remember when Delaney won hers, they were bad. I can't even imagine…”

“Yeah,” Janey replies, “I've hardly been able to sleep since I set foot on this train. I think it's because of the stress of taking down Paylor, knowing it rests on me in some way, and all the regrets I have from my arena weighing on me. They're not this bad usually.”

“Oh,” Kelly says again, like she doesn't know what to say. “That's awful, Jane. I wish I could help.”

“You are,” Janey tells her. It's true. “It's nice to have a familiar face to wake up to and fight beside--though I'll say I've never seen you with your staves.”

Kelly laughs. “Maybe you should sometime.”

“Yeah.” Janey is glad the conversation has lightened again to familiar territory, of joking and talk of tomorrows, while also keeping it surface-level. The way it's always been between them. “Maybe I should.”

They're grinning at each other when the doors of the caboose slide open, and a bedraggled Taylor walks in, stopping short when she sees the two of them.

“Oh,” she says, and backs up a step, “Am I interrupting something?”

And that's the first time Janey laughs since leaving District Seven.

 

* * *

 

Six hours later, and Austin still hasn't figured out the messages. He's sitting at his station poring over his notes when the Peacekeepers step through the door.

He turns in his chair, and catches Darla’s startled gaze from across the room.

“Special orders from Paylor,” a male Peacekeeper announces from the center of the room, “All personnel are to stay an extra two hours after their shift. There have been multiple power surges reported across the country, and we need you to fix them. There is no room for error in this trying time our country faces.”

Power surges? Trying time?

“Now get back to work!”

Austin doesn't know what to think of the orders. He shares another look with Darla before he looks back at his monitor.

It's not often that Peacekeepers come knocking to extend shifts. These seem harsher than usual, though.

He knows what he's heard on the news, of the bombings. Is that why Paylor is doing this? It must be.

An hour later the Peacekeepers still patrol the room, stand by the doors, seeming like they're waiting for something. But what?

Darla rolls her chair next to Austin. He starts and scrolls away from the message.

“Sorry,” Darla apologizes, “I was just thinking something.”

This is just like Darla.

“What?” Austin asks. He hopes he isn't drawing attention to himself by talking.

“Well, I've been looking over that section of code and… What if it's not code? What if it's a message?”

“A message?” Austin feels his face go pale. “What are you… Darla, that's crazy.”

He hopes it's not.

“No, listen to me,” Darla argues. She lowers her voice. “Something doesn't seem right here. Everything has been different since that broadcast on the bombings in One.”

“I still don’t get why it would be a message. But, I’m not saying you’re wrong. Just go back over there, before they get suspicious,” Austin says.

To his dismay, she leans in closer to him. A Peacekeeper glances over at the them.

“Hey! Why are you away from your workstation?” the Peacekeeper shouts. Austin gulps as the large man walks towards them.

“I just needed help with a piece of my code,” Darla explains.

The Peacekeeper looks over Austin, then Darla. He stands still, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Get what you need, and back to your station. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Darla says.

Austin nods along with her.

The Peacekeeper continues his patrol.

“So, as I was saying…” Darla pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket.

“You think it's a message,” Austin fills in.

“Yes.” She scribbles another line of letters down next to the ones off her computer. “You see, I used to do something like this with my mom when I was little. Only way we spoke freely under Snow. Of course. that was just until the revolution--which, have you heard the rumors?”

“Rumors?”

“It's why I think it's a message.”

“If it is a message, someone went through a lot of trouble to get it here,” Austin replies. Across the room a Peacekeeper shouts at another one of the analysts.

“You’re doing it backwards! It’s the other way!”

Austin looks over his shoulder and shakes his head.

“What does he know?” he asks, but it falls on deaf ears.

“That's it.” Darla erases the letters she wrote and writes a new set on the other side of the paper, A to Z. Then, next to them, she starts at Z and goes back to A. “Backwards…”

“Backwards?” Austin asks. He peeks at what she wrote.

“The message is… B… E… E… T…”

Austin runs the letters through his mind a few times, before it hits him.

B.. E... E... T... E... E.

"Beetee," Austin says, just loud enough for Darla to be the only one that hears it. Darla gives him a questioning look.

"Beetee Latir?" she whispers.

“Why would he send a message?” Austin asks.

“Beats me. But, it must be important if he went through all this to hide his message.”

“How did you crack it?”

“Like this.” Darla hands him the piece of paper. “See, each letter in the correct order has a corresponding one in the backwards order, so--”

“--Ahem.”

Both Austin and Darla turn, while Austin is quick to slip the piece of paper under his keyboard.

“That’s enough. No more mingling. Back to your workstation,” the Peacekeeper says, his tone more serious than before.

“Okay, okay. I’m going. I got everything I need.”

Darla turns and rolls her chair back to her computer. Once situated back in her seat, she begins to type.

Austin looks over his shoulder at her, and she nods. They'll talk about what to do with this later, and maybe he'll tell her about the other half of the message…

He is just about to turn around when the Peacekeeper stomps over to Darla’s desk.

Darla looks up. She frowns.

“What did I do now? I came back here just like you wanted.”

“What's that on your screen?” he barks.

She looks back. Confusion dawns on her face, then fear as she locks eyes with the Peacekeeper again.

“I… I don't know how that got there,” she tries to explain.

The Peacekeeper draws his pistol.

Austin freezes. He wants to move, to help, to say something, but all he can do is watch while Darla flounders, while she puts her hands up in surrender and begs for her life.

And he watches while it doesn't work.

He watches while the Peacekeeper, without another word, pulls the trigger. Darla’s body shivers and then slumps forward.

Darla is dead.

And all Austin can do is watch, is see what it was that killed her:

Code so clearly shaped like that of a Mockingjay in flight. And just before it, hidden in plain sight, a series of numbers.

The last four digits of his ID number.


	12. Support

As they near District Five, Janey joins Kelly and the others in one of the main living cars. She spots Johanna leaning against the wall, one leg bent; two men she thinks whose names are Greg and Bobby sitting on top of a cabinet; the pretty blonde girl and the one from District Six sitting in chairs, along with Paylor’s daughter; and Katniss standing in the middle of the room. Her husband is absent.

“Where’s Peeta?” pipes up the blonde girl. Janey can’t recall her name. Tatum… Tia… Tammy? No, that’s not it.

“He’s using one of the phones to call our babysitter, check on the kids,” Katniss explains. “He’ll be here soon.”

Taylor, maybe?

Yeah, that’s it.

“Okay…” Johanna pushes off the wall. “So, what’s the plan here, brainless?”

“Same as always. Get in, get our target, and get out with as little conflict as possible,” Katniss replies.

Jordan says, “The closer to One and the Capitol we get, the more difficult it’s going to be. I don’t expect this is going to be that easy. Five is pretty important.”

Katniss exchanges a look with Jordan, folding her arms over her chest. “Good point, Jordan. Five is very important—that’s why we’re going there.”

“So, who’s the target?” Johanna cuts back in.

“I don’t know,” Katniss says.

_Wait, what?_

Janey considers saying something, but the room has gone silent.

“You don’t know?” Kelly asks. It’s exactly what everyone is thinking, Janey is sure.

“Nope.” Katniss uncrosses her arms and looks outside. “But, there is still a plan.”

“And that is?” Johanna’s sharp voice interjects. “Please, don’t tell me you have actually lost that noggin of yours.”

Katniss rolls her eyes at her friend’s comment. “No, Jo, I still have a brain. And the plan is this: We’re going to cut the power to the Capitol.”

“Cut the power to the Capitol? How?” Jordan asks.

“We did it before, princess,” Johanna says. Janey sees Jordan wrinkle her nose at that. “Though, this time, we don’t have an army of soldiers willing to die… That, And none of us here are that smart.”

“Um, actually…” Taylor raises her hand, and rises from her seat. “I know someone. Katniss and I talked it over last night.”

“Exactly,” Katniss says.

“Who is it?” Greg asks. Or is his name Grayson? Either way, he hasn’t spoken since they’ve gathered here, and Janey isn’t sure how she feels about him yet. But that goes for nearly everyone here except Kelly.

“Darla… something,” Taylor answers. “I don’t know her well, and I can’t remember her last name, but I know she’s an analyst inside the plant. I met her once on a train ride between districts.”

“Hmm,” Bobby says, “How do you know she’ll help us?”

“If we explain our story, it shouldn’t be a problem.” Taylor sits back down and gestures to the group. “Isn’t that how I got you here?”

She makes a point. Everyone knows it. Not even Janey can find something to argue that.

“Okay,” Johanna says, “But that still doesn’t explain how we take the power plant, which we assume is heavily guarded. This isn’t going to be as easy as Six. And not that I don’t love fighting Peacekeepers, but we can’t just walk through the front door…”

“Why not?” Kelly asks. “We have numbers. And while I don’t suggest everyone goes, obviously, we have a solid advantage here. I mean, with Katniss, you, and Janey alone, we have three former Victors. It sounds like a piece of cake.” She stands, and pulls one of her batons off her thigh. “Besides, I love a good show.”

Janey doesn’t know what to do with the grin the other woman sends her, so she just smiles back.

She also doesn’t know what to do with the idea of her fighting today.

“Janey?” Johanna’s voice snaps her back to the present before she can get stuck in her own head. “What do you think?”

Janey blinks. “Oh, yeah,” she replies, “I think Kelly, Katniss, and you should go, though. You don’t need me. That’d be… overkill. Kelly is more than capable of holding her own.” And while everything she says is true, the real reason she says this is she’s still not ready to have to kill yet.

Johanna gives her friend a look before nodding. “Okay, does anyone object?”

No one does.

“Good.” Johanna looks to Katniss. “What about you, Mockingjay?”

“Sounds good to me,” Katniss replies.

 

* * *

 

After they’ve dragged Darla’s body away, Austin reaches under his keyboard for the piece of paper and her part of the message—her last piece of work.

 _B. E. E. T. E. E. L. A. T. I. R.,_ it spells.

He doesn’t know what to do with it. None of it makes sense.

Beetee Latir sent him a message? Why?

While shock and sadness of loss and confusion roll over him, Austin can’t come up with an answer. Sure, he’s followed Beetee’s work for years on the down-low, but it’s nothing more than admiration; for a time his dream had been to work in District Three, to learn to hack like him, but after his father’s injury in the dams of Five, it just couldn’t happen.

And now, he has a message from him. Beetee Latir, one of the last living Victors. A hero.

What else is Austin to do but decode it?

So, though he tries not to focus on Darla’s handwriting, Austin does.

The message reads:

_Austin, I am in trouble. If you are reading this, Paylor has found me out and taken me. Presumably to use for her gain. I need you to do something for me._

_Katniss Everdeen will come to District Five by train. Join her. Help her take down Paylor. Things are not as they seem. We are all in danger._

And Austin doesn’t know what to do with that, either, but he can believe the man’s words when he says that they’re all in danger.

Didn’t he just witness that firsthand?

 

* * *

  
With the meeting over, Janey decides to head to the dining car for some breakfast, in what seems to be a group decision. Most of the team members are behind her, including Kelly and Katniss, who talk in low tones while they head down the hallway.

Janey is just pouring herself a refill of water from the pitcher when Johanna sidles up to her.

“Hey, J,” she says, voice low, “What happened back there? Why don't you wanna go?”

Janey takes a deep breath. She doesn't want to sound weak to her friend, but Jo would understand…

“I don’t want to have to kill,” she explains, “I’m afraid that I’ll go overboard like I did in the Games. That everyone here will see me like a monster…” Janey covers the resulting silence with a drink of her water.

“Oh. I get that.” Johanna sighs.”You know you're not a monster, right? You're just someone who's been through something. I get that you're scared, but I'll be there, too. And I've always had your back, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Just trust me.”

Janey still isn't sure.

“Look,” Johanna says, “You don’t have to kill. You don’t even have to hit anyone. It’s about numbers, yes, but it’s also about support. You support Katniss’s cause, right?”

Janey nods.

“Then just do that. Support her. Help those that are scared. Not every solution is a violent one. Sometimes all it takes is someone offering their hand to help you off the ground.”

Johanna makes a good point; Janey will admit that much. Though the words sound odd for someone she’s seen many a morning waking up with an axe under her bed.

“When did you get so wise?” Janey asks.

Johanna laughs. “Wise? I wouldn’t call it that. Call it… experienced. You forget, I’ve been in war time, and twice the amount of arenas you have.”

“Okay, experienced,” Janey jokes.

The two share a moment of amused grins.

Then: “So, you coming, or what?” Johanna asks.

Janey takes a second to consider her options. And she remembers her earlier conversation with Kelly, about seeing her with her staves.

It _would_ be nice. And she would like to help, in any way she can.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Janey replies.

Johanna nods. “Good. Finish eating, and don’t forget to eat your greens.” Janey hears the teasing in her former mentor’s voice. “You’ll need your strength.”

 

* * *

 

Austin doesn’t know what time it is when the Peacekeepers leave. He also doesn’t know if that means he’s allowed to leave, now, either; and the same can be said about the rest of the analysts in the room. They, like he, are anxious and confused, and they all look around wildly as though the answer will present itself out of the blue. Their resulting chatter is low and tinged with worry.

“Why did they leave?” they ask. “Are they coming back?”

No one knows. No one even wants to guess, after what happened with Darla.

Austin wishes there were windows in this room. Then, at least, he’d know if it was late afternoon or night. His shift must be over by now. That, and he’s probably missed dinner.

But is any of it worth it, if they’re killing people for not working hard enough, for not explaining things fast enough?

“What time is it?” one analyst in the back corner asks. Their colleague just shakes their head and shrugs.

Austin stays quiet. He knows that’s safest. Darla wasn’t quiet, and she paid dearly for it.

Even if it wasn’t her fault…

Austin can’t help but think about the messages.

Why would Beetee send them to him? Why not just Darla, if she was the one who knew how to crack it? And why send them to her at all, if it gets her killed?

None of it makes any sense.

Austin’s thoughts—and the room’s noise—are interrupted by the door opening. A single Peacekeeper steps through.

“We are on lockdown,” they say. Austin recognizes the voice as the one that shot Darla.

He sighs. _Great._ Now it’s anybody’s guess when they’ll get out of here. All he wants to do right now is go home and process; he needs to process everything he’s seen today, and what it all means.

 _Things are not as they seem_ , said Beetee’s message.

He was right about that.

“Why are we on lockdown?” one brave soul questions.

“That’s a need to know basis. Now, unless you want to end up like that girl, back to work!” the Peacekeeper yells. Most of them do as told, but Austin doesn’t.

That’s when the sound of gunfire grabs everyone’s attention. The Peacekeeper bolts from the room, and everyone looks around, fear in their eyes. Austin thinks about Beetee’s message.

Could the gunfire be related to what he said? He doesn’t know. All he knows is they need to take cover.

He goes to speak up, but another analyst does it for him:

“We should all hide!”

Everyone scrambles under the desks as the sound of gunfire outside continues.

And as Austin sits beneath his station, he hears a Peacekeeper shout something. It takes him a second to make out what it is.

“ _Mock... ingjay!_ ”

Mockingjay?

Could it be…?

He doesn’t have time to wonder, because as quickly as the gunfire began, it stops. And the next moment, the door is opening. Austin squints between the armrests on his chair to see a woman step in, wielding only a knife. She couldn’t possibly be the cause of all that noise.

“Hello?” she calls. Austin sees her sheath the knife and slip it back into her boot. He doesn’t move.

There’s no response from anyone as the woman looks around the room. She clears her throat.

“I’m looking for a woman named Darla.” Austin immediately glances over at Darla’s empty workstation. He pokes his head out and slowly raises his hand.

The woman turns to him. “Yes?”

“Darla isn’t here. She’s dead.”

“Dead?” the woman echoes.

Austin nods.

“She was shot this morning by a Peacekeeper,” he explains.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The woman curses under her breath, and looks around the room.

When she looks back at Austin, she jabs a finger his way.

“You,” she says.

“Me?”

“Yeah.” The woman motions for him to come where she stands. “I need you to help me with something.”

“I don’t even know who you are,” Austin says. “Why should I help you?” He hopes by saying this, he doesn’t get himself killed, but he doesn’t know who to trust right now.

“My name is Janey, Janey Raymond.” Austin immediately recognizes the name of a former victor. She’s on the infamous side of Hunger Games victors.

“And what exactly do you need me for?” he asks.

“I need you to cut the power to the Capitol.”

“What?” Is she crazy? “What do you need me to do that for?”

“For me,” says another voice, and Austin turns his attention to the door.

There stands Katniss Everdeen. The Mockingjay.

Austin can’t help but be a little starstruck.

“Why…” He struggles to complete the sentence. “Why do you need me to do that?”

“Because, I don’t know if you’ve seen or heard of the rumors, but, Paylor is behind the bombings in One. I’m putting a team together, and I need to take her down a peg. So, I need the power to be cut,” Katniss explains.

“Oh,” Austin says, and stands up fully. “Okay. Yeah, I’ve… heard.” It makes sense. “I just… It’s not that simple. If I cut the power, she will know where you are.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Katniss says, “So, will you help, or not? You don’t have to come with us after.”

Austin pauses, and considers it.

The message told him to help Katniss when she came, and here she is. That means he should, right? Plus, Darla died due to her curiosity in cracking the code. Doesn’t he owe it to her to do this? And to see it through?

“I’ll help,” Austin says, “But on one condition.”

“Name it,” Katniss says.

“You take me with you. I want to join this team. I’m not going to just be someone that helped along the way.”

Katniss looks surprised at this; she wasn’t expecting that. Austin takes pride in it.

Then she extends her hand.

“Okay, consider it a deal,” she says. “Welcome to the team…”

“Austin Underwood,” Austin supplies.

“Austin Underwood,” Katniss repeats, “Welcome. We’re glad to have you.”


	13. Lights Out

Only the main light fixtures in the hallway illuminate Arden’s path while she patrols the second story of the presidential mansion. It's just past seven o'clock, and all seems clear.

For now.

Felix is above her, assigned to the third story, and this is totally normal. Sometimes they split up to cover more ground, and tonight is one of those nights. She won't see him again until their shift ends in two hours at nine. Lately, they've been given evening shifts in light of their incident.

Almost on cue, his voice comes through her radio.

_“Everything good, A?"_

“Yeah, it’s clear. I haven’t seen any Peacekeepers yet, thank heavens.”

She heard from Felix earlier that Paylor had assigned some Peacekeepers to the night patrols. Why, he doesn’t know.  Increased security because of the bombings, he assumes. Arden can only hope Caroline isn't one of them; her head still hurts from the concussion that crazy woman caused.

She turns down another hallway, and spots a Peacekeeper walking in her direction. As they pass each other, the Peacekeeper shifts closer to Arden.

“Kaustinen...” a familiar voice trails.

“Stewart,” Arden snaps in disdain.

The woman's high laugh answers her. “Did you miss me?”

Arden scoffs. “Hardly.”

“How's your head?”

Why does she care?

“It's fine,” Arden answers, clipped, “No thanks to you.”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Caroline says, “but you were in my way. I had my orders, and I was only following them.” Arden doesn't believe that for a second. “Funny how we end up patrolling the same floor though, isn’t it?”

“Funny?” Arden echoes. “More like you wanted it. I always seem to be running into you.”

Caroline laughs from underneath her helmet. “Well, maybe it’s just a coincidence, AK.”

“AK?”

“Those are your initials, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Then what's the problem?” Caroline asks. “I just figure if we're going to be working together tonight, we should be on more than a last name basis… AK.”

Arden doesn't know what this “Caroline” is trying to get at with coincidences and calling her names.

“What are your ‘orders’ tonight?” she asks instead of answering.

“Same as yours,” Caroline replies, “Paylor wanted a Peacekeeper and a guard on each floor. I just got stuck with you, AK.”

“Stuck with me? I’m not the one who’s been sneaking around with some secret agenda,” Arden says as the lights above them flicker.

“Woah.” Caroline stops in the hallway. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“The lights.”

Arden looks up at the ceiling, watching while the lights flicker again. Caroline looks to her left and right, and Arden feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Something isn’t right here,” she says.

“Yeah…” Caroline draws her gun, and Arden does the same. “I agree.”

As they slowly begin down the hallway in tandem, Arden tries to convince herself that this is just another night, working side by side with a Peacekeeper. Not a Peacekeeper that knocked her out, and could be committing treason at any moment—just a normal Peacekeeper.

It doesn't work very well. She's tense for two reasons instead of one.

And she wishes Felix were here.

The lights continue to flicker as they reach the end of the hallway.

When they turn the corner, both women are startled when static sounds from Arden’s radio.

“Is that you?” Caroline asks.

“Yeah.” Arden unclips the device from her belt and hits the ‘talk’ button. “Over, over. Static on my end. Felix, do you read?” Then she waits, either for silence or response.

She gets the former.

“Felix?” Arden repeats. “Over, over. Felix, do you read?”

Nothing.

Arden sighs.

“It's probably just a faulty electrical line,” Caroline tries to reassure her.

Arden isn't sure about that.

Overhead, the lights flicker off and on for a few more seconds, and then there is a decided _click_.

The whole floor is plunged into darkness.

“What is going on?” Arden asks. She fumbles for her flashlight, and squints when Caroline pulls hers out, too. The white light is bright on the shiny floors of the mansion.

“Come on.” Without warning, Arden feels a hard grab on her arm.

 _Caroline_.

“What…” she begins, only to be cut off when the Peacekeeper yanks her around a corner. “Stewart, what are you _doing?”_

A door opens. Arden is guided into it.

“My job,” Caroline replies, and it is then that Arden gets the sense she isn’t talking about security anymore.

 

* * *

 ****

When her office is doused in darkness, President Paylor sits in confused silence for a few, stunned seconds. Then she laughs. Then she slams her hand on her desk because she’s been outplayed; she should have seen this coming.

She doesn't know exactly why the power has gone out, but she has her suspicions. Suspicions that involve a certain figure head…

_Very clever, Mrs. Mellark..._

“Cyra!” she yells out for her assistant. Within moments, the middle aged woman comes running in, a candle already in hand.

“Yes, Madam President?” the woman asks.

“I need you to do two things for me,” Paylor says. “First, put that candle on my desk. Second, bring me Mr. Latir.”

“Of course.” Cyra takes small steps to set the candle down next to the pile of documents and blueprints scattered over her desk. Then she turns, saying, “I’ll be right back with Mr. Latir.”

When she is gone, Paylor folds her hands.

This means that Katniss is in District Five. Who she has gotten to help her, Paylor doesn’t know—but it doesn’t matter. Not much, anyway.

She has other plans in place that are sure to shock the nation, and the Mockingjay herself. Why, she has all of the heroine’s remaining loved ones secured in one Capitol building or another… Including her traitorous friend Beetee.

Maybe it’s time she started to make use of them. She already has Commander Hawthorne working on convicting that Bernstein girl of her crimes; once he catches up to his former best friend, things are sure to get interesting.

The odds are definitely in her favor. All the pawns are situated on her side of the chess board, waiting to be pushed forward or sacrificed.

Paylor looks up when the door to her office opens again. Cyra has returned with Beetee in tow, and the middle aged Victor looks exceptionally calm and collected as he is led to sit in one of the chairs across from her.

“Good evening, Paylor,” Beetee greets as he adjusts himself. He straightens his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“It’s _President_ Paylor,” Paylor reminds him.

“Not for long…”

Paylor sighs and closes her eyes to keep her emotions in check. She does not need to go off on Beetee Latir, and not at this hour. There will be plenty of time to punish him, especially if he doesn’t comply now.

“I need you to get the power back on,” she says. “Can you do it?”

“Certainly.” Though it's obvious he doesn't want to, by how he fidgets with his glasses. “I will just need access to a computer.”

“Consider it done. Cyra will help with that. Such a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Latir,” Paylor says.

“Of course, _Paylor_...”

Paylor narrows her eyes at Beetee as he is led away.

 

* * *

 

Once they’re inside, Caroline shuts the door behind her and Arden. She grabs the flashlight out of Arden’s hand and sets it on the table inside the room. The white light shows bright on both of their faces.

“Okay, I haven’t been entirely honest with you, AK,” Caroline says, removing her helmet.

Arden turns. Why is she not surprised? “Consider me not shocked, Stewart.”

“Well, now it’s time for me to tell you the truth,” Caroline says, and in the semi-darkness her eyes are clear and serious, her blonde hair wild around her face. “I’m not sure how long this outage is going to last. I need to take advantage of it.”

Arden looks at Caroline in confusion.

 _Take advantage?_ “What are you talking about?”

“Paylor isn't the upstanding president you think she is.”

“What?”

“She’s behind the attack on District One. It’s not some rebel alliance group that I’ve heard her talking about to Clyd. And she’s planning more.” Arden is silent as she tries to take in what Caroline is telling her. “Further, she’s probably working to get the power back on. So, I have to move. Now.”

“And do what?” Arden, while not surprised at all that Caroline was indeed hiding something, is still confused. She doesn’t know why Caroline is doing this. Everything she’s being told about Paylor… sounds like some kind of conspiracy theory. Something she’d never expect of the president. “How do you know Paylor is behind the attacks?”

“Because,” Caroline explains, “No one else has access to those type of bombs; only her. No one in District One would ever have the amount of firepower to pull that off.”

“I’m still confused. How do you know all this?”

“Because…” Caroline repeats, “I’m not from here like most of the Peacekeepers. I’m not from Two, either. I’m from District One. And that rebel alliance group I mentioned? I’m one of its leaders.”

Arden goes silent for a long moment, processing. It's a lot to take in, and she doesn't know what her previous theory on Caroline was, but it wasn't _this_. It wasn't her being a…. Spy… or for the reasons she expected. She can't believe it.

And can't bring herself to believe the information on the government she serves.

“Why are you telling me this?” Arden asks.

Caroline steps closer. “Because,” she says, and there is only inches between them. Arden sucks in a breath. Now she doesn’t know whether to feel threatened or… intrigued. Either way, her heart speeds up. “I don’t know why, but… for some reason, I trust you. You could easily turn me in, I know. However, I don’t think that’s your style. You’re loyal, and you want the truth. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” Arden does.

“I’m putting my faith in you.”

Arden is speechless. She doesn’t know what to think, or what to do. Why, she wants to ask—Why would Caroline put her faith in her? Her trust?

Instead:

“So, you’re a spy?” The moment is broken. Arden has to step back. The tension lessens. She has so many questions.

“Technically,” Caroline answers. “But, that's more I can explain later. Right now I need something. It's time-sensitive.”

“Time-sensitive…” Arden repeats.

“Yes.” Caroline steps away, to turn to a cabinet in the room. She opens it, and in a second reveals a false wall inside. She pulls a duffel bag from the secret compartment. “And I'm going to need your ID to get it.”

“My ID?” Arden feels this is crossing a line. Suddenly Caroline’s assignment makes sense: She needed something. But still it feels like _more_ … “Wait.”

“Are you in?”

“I want proof.” Those are the words Arden finds herself saying, instead of warning that she's going to report her. For some reason, that isn't her first response. Maybe it’s because she knows it wouldn’t do anything, just like last time.

And she does want the truth. She wants to take this into her own hands. Without Felix standing by her side to tell her otherwise…

“You'll get your proof if you help me,” Caroline says. She unzips the bag, and Arden spots the same device from that night on the fourth floor.

“What is that?”

“It’s not an audio device like I told you before. It’s a cloning device. I need it installed on Paylor’s private server. Her files, we need them. And, after your boss turned me in, she forbids any Peacekeepers from her office. Except for Clyd,” she explains.

“That’s why you need my ID.”

“Exactly. I need you to clone her server on this device. Once that’s done, I’ll tell you everything you want to know, AK. You have my word.”

It sounds like a gamble. Arden doesn't know if it will work. She also doesn't know that she trusts Caroline enough to take her word.

“So,” Caroline asks, “Are you in?”

But curiosity gets the better of her.

“I'm in.”


	14. Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no update—and not for lack of chapters. Can I say "oops"?

The train has just crossed into District Four territory when Katniss rolls over, feeling Peeta beside her. Early morning light casts grey onto the bed, and she tries to differentiate the two feelings that accompany laying beside him in the darkness of the Capitol train: deja vu and fear. None of the comfort she usually finds in his arms.

They’re only four districts away from the Capitol. Four districts away from ending all this… and then she can go back to being Katniss Mellark, former Victor and mother of two—instead of Katniss Mellark, figurehead and hero.

She wants nothing more.

“Hey...” Katniss turns at the sound of her husband's voice, which is full of rasp from sleep. “Where are we?” He props up on his elbow.

Katniss looks out one of the windows in the bedroom, seeing nothing but the long stretch of ocean waves. There's nothing but beautiful blue water for miles.

“District Four.”

“Hmm,” Peeta hums, and he, too, takes in the scenery of beach houses and fishing docks. Then he's all business: “Do we have anyone to pick up?”

“No,” Katniss says, and she's glad. She needs a moment's rest from rushing through each district like the clock is winding down, like every moment is the last. Something she didn't think about when she dove headfirst into this idea of saving the country again like it was a simple backstroke, not the feat it really is. It's all too familiar. “Edan wants to stop and refuel, though. And I'd like to get a message to Annie, warn her of what might come.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Peeta says. “She deserves to know. Plus,” His eyes wander to the window again, “District Four is a beautiful place. A good place to cool off. I’m sure we could all use a fresh pot of coffee or just a few minutes of sun.”

Katniss smiles. He has a point—a few minutes of sun would be good, a reminder of what they’re fighting for. That, and a good cup of caffeine… It sounds almost like a vacation, but she knows it’s not. Knows there are darker reasons they’re here.

She sits up and swings her legs off the edge of the bed.

“We should get ready.” It’s a good distraction. She’s itching to get out there, even if there are a hundred Peacekeepers waiting for her. “We’ll probably be pulling into the station soon.”

“Okay.” When he sits up beside her, Peeta drops a kiss to her temple. It’s so simple, so domestic, that it makes Katniss sigh. She’s reminded of the many mornings like this where they’d wake up to the sounds of their children laughing. Suddenly a pang of longing stings in Katniss’s chest.

She wonders how quiet little Trev is handling being away from them for so long… It’s been, what? Two, three weeks now?

She leans her head on Peeta’s shoulder.

“Hey.” He wraps an arm around her. “I thought we were getting up?”

“We are,” Katniss murmurs, “I just…” She sighs again. “I need a second.”

“Okay.” Peeta is understanding. Katniss loves him for it.

“How did the kids sound last night?”

He caresses her shoulder. “Good. Sae says they’re sleeping and eating well.”

“That’s good.” Katniss wishes she were there in Twelve right now, but she knows why she isn’t. Why she can’t be. Not yet. “I can’t wait until we’re home.”

“Me either.”

“Then we can get back to our lives.”

Now Peeta is the one to sigh. “Agreed.”

They break apart when the train comes to a squealing stop.

It’s time to get up now. And so, Katniss does, starting with the simplest of tasks first in order to start her day. In order to get through it.

She braids her hair. And she thinks of every good thing she’s seen since they began this trip.

It lessens the ache, a little.

 

* * *

 

Almost an hour after the power goes out, Caroline stands guard outside one of Paylor’s offices--the few that run on generators. She has her helmet on and her hand on her baton, ready for any threat that should come. Meanwhile, Arden is inside, copying the president’s files onto the device. As Caroline looks left and right, she hopes no one will show up; she hopes that this will be a quick and easy task, and they’ll get out without any confrontation.

“How we doing?” Peeking her head into the doorway, Caroline glances at Arden. She’s staring intently at the monitor, her blonde braid falling down the slope of her neck, cheeks lit up from the screen…

Caroline blinks to break her distraction. _So what if she's cute?_ She’s never been a stranger to liking girls, but—she’s a Capitol guard.

Her focus snaps back to the task at hand when Arden speaks.

“Halfway there,” Arden says, “but it’s a lot of data. I’ll need five more minutes, minimum.” That’s longer than Caroline would like. “Just keep watch, okay? I’ve got this.”

“Okay.” Caroline goes back to her post. A few minutes later, she looks down the hall again, and swallows thickly. Her boss, Commander Clyd, is marching towards her.

_Oh, no…_

“Hey!” His gloved hand points sharply to her face. Caroline is glad she’s wearing her helmet. “Stop right there!”

Caroline takes up normal Peacekeeper position when being reprimanded: back straight, hands at sides, chin held high. She holds her breath.

“Remove your helmet,” Commander Clyd orders.

Caroline knows she has no choice but to obey.

When her hair is free and she’s looking guiltily at her boss, he says:

“Stewart! What are you doing here?” Anger rises in his voice.

Caroline knows no response is going to save her now. She didn’t want to get physical, but—

“I received a distress call,” she says, the lie smooth from her lips, “from one of the guard on this floor.”

“Who?”

“Uh…”

Commander Clyd’s jaw twitches. “I thought I ordered you away from this floor.”

“You did,” Caroline says, “But—”

He reaches for his handcuffs. “You disobeyed direct orders, Stewart. This is the second time I’ve caught you up here unsupervised, with bullshit excuses, and I’m just about done with it. Give me your wrists.”

“No.” Caroline grabs her baton.

“No?” Commander Clyd’s face darkens. “Did you just—”

Caroline doesn’t let him finish his sentence. Instead, she sweeps her right leg into his knees, which sends him crumpling to the ground. He recovers, just barely, but it isn’t before Caroline has smashed the glass on his helmet with her baton. The force knocks him out cold.

“Caroline?” Arden’s voice calls from inside the office. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, now,” Caroline replies.

Arden appears in the doorway. The shock is evident on her face when she sees Commander Clyd.

“How much data have you got?” Caroline asks.

Arden moves her gaze from the body on the floor to Caroline. “Halfway, maybe 60%.”

“It’ll have to do.” Caroline bends and pulls the commander into a sitting position by his shoulders. “We can’t wait any longer.” She begins to drag him toward the office.

Arden helps Caroline drag the Peacekeeper into the office. Caroline exchanges a glance with Arden, before snatching the radio off of Commander Clyd.

“Clyd reports directly to Paylor. Every hour on the dot. With the power being out, we have extra time,” Caroline says.

“So, what now?” Arden asks as she goes over to remove the device from the monitors and shut them down.

“We see what we got, and hopefully it gives us something. Also, I fulfill my end of our deal. I’ll fill you in on everything once we’re in the clear.”

 

* * *

 

While Katniss and Peeta go to warn their friend about what’s to come, Jordan slips out of the train to the beach. Their orders are to stay close, but otherwise, they’re free to do whatever they want for the hour. And while some of the other team members—like that Victor Jordan can’t remember the name of and Kelly—chose to push the limits at a rest stop to play _cards_ of all things, Jordan did not.

She wanted to stand in front of the water. Needed to.

She needed to remember why they were doing this. Because recently the thought of taking down her mother was starting to feel strange and wrong, and Jordan knew it was because of her mother’s influence; it was always her influence that kept her in line, and now, though no contact had been made, was no exception.

Just the idea of being near her again was reason enough for the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

She remembered clearly the last time she’d been in District Four. She was on an “errand” for her parents, and she’d gone with her mother instead of her father, which was odd. But Jordan knew why her father had planned it that way.

_“Isn’t it beautiful, Jordan?”_

Her mother, though less harsh in some ways than her father, was just as demanding and able to get Jordan to do her will.

And her will was done. Always.

_“Yes, mother.”_

Jordan could just see it now—the grand hotel they’d stayed in, the water, the camera flashes.

And the dead District Four mayor laying at their feet. A senseless murder, then.

Wasn’t that why she was doing this? To end all the death? Death her mother had caused, had ordered, simply because she’d grown too power hungry and desperate?

 _Yes!_ Jordan thought as she closed her eyes, fisting her hands at her sides. That had to be it.

Right?

Unlike most errands her parents sent her on, she remembered most of this one. For one reason, this conversation with her mother resonated with her.

_“I wish your father could witness it. He’d think it was beautiful, too.”_

Jordan swallows thickly at remembering the mention of her father. Her father, the definition of an evil man. Even now, she fears him.

_“I bet... he would, mother.”_

For all her childhood, Jordan was scared of them both, and she still is to a certain degree. She hasn’t been on any errands with them in a few years. But, she never knows when they’ll call. When they’ll need her, and how they’ll manipulate her into doing it. Even now, when she’s joined up to take her mother down…

It wouldn’t take much. It’s always been way too easy for them to control her. Just that two word phrase, and it’s all over. Because of her.

Jordan shakes her head, trying to clear the thought.

“Hey, princess?”

Jordan turns. Grayson, from District Eleven, stands with his arms crossed.

“My name isn't _princess_ ,” Jordan says.

Grayson shrugged. “That's what Jo called you, figured I'd give it a shot. Anyway,” He uncrossed his arms to hook a thumb over his shoulder, “Katniss and Peeta just got back, and that Jones guy said the train would be ready in a few minutes. So they sent me to get you.”

“Okay.” And her hour is up. Jordan takes one last glance at the ocean, and sees her resolve and fear in the crest of a wave. She hopes one wins over the other. “Then let's go.”

Grayson takes the lead, and Jordan follows.


	15. Truth

The lights flicker again while Caroline and Arden make their way to the third floor carefully, hoping to avoid being spotted. They check every space, every corner, then move as quickly as possible to the stairwell.

It’s only a matter of time before the power comes back, with Clyd’s consequent late report to Paylor. It’s time they need to use wisely. Once the power comes back, everything is bound to go to hell, Caroline knows.

Including her cover.

She still isn’t sure how Arden is going to take the truth, truth she promised about her true identity and mission here—but, a deal is a deal. Caroline will tell her, no matter the consequences.

She’s nothing if not a woman of her word.

They round a corner on the third floor, and Arden stops in her tracks. 

“What?” Caroline whispers.

Arden points one finger in the air. “There's a light.” She steps forward. “Stay here.”

Caroline does. No sense in blowing her cover more than she already has…

Arden draws her gun. Caroline watches with bated breath while she sneaks behind the beam of light, behind its holder. With a tap on the shoulder, the person whirls, and what follows is a moment of shouted chaos before:

_ “ A ?” _

“Felix,” Arden says, relief coloring her voice. She lowers her weapon without hesitation. “Thank heavens you're alright.”

“I'm fine.” There's a crease in his brow. “I went looking for you when the power was cut. What do we know about that?” 

“Not much.” Arden shoots Caroline a look over her shoulder, and she steps out into the light. “What about you?”

“Not much,” he echoes, “Most of the guards and Peacekeepers are with Paylor…” Then he must notice Caroline, because he says, “Speaking of which, why are _you_ here?”

Caroline shrugs. “I was running patrol on the same floor as AK here. We just stuck together once the power ran out.”

“Ah. Stuck together, huh?” Caroline can't tell if Felix believes her.

“Yeah,” Arden says. She looks over her shoulder again.

_ Thank you, _ Caroline mouths.

Arden nods.

“Well, there’s an electrical room down on the second floor,” Felix suggests, “I was headed there myself to check it out. I could use some company?”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go,” Arden says. “It's probably best if we stay together. Right, Caroline?”

Felix gives them both a strange look.

Caroline gives a nod of agreement. “Right.”

When they reach the electrical room, the three of them slip inside the door at Felix’s word. Inside, they find that the usual myriad of colored lights on the servers isn't to be found. Instead, the room is doused in darkness, and empty.

Felix shines his light on the fuse box in the corner. “Hmm,” he says, “Nothing's blown.”

Caroline steps behind him to take a closer look. She agrees with his testament.

“Could it be an outside source?” she asks, “If the box isn’t blown, then it has to be, right?” 

“Possibly,” Felix answers, but Caroline can tell he's skeptical. “But it could still be an inside job.” He turns, and Caroline resists the urge to grasp her baton. “Right, Caroline?” 

She freezes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure you do,” Felix continues, “Think about it. All those times we ran into you… that device… suddenly being the only Peacekeeper in this part of the mansion when the power goes out… how quickly you  _ suggested _ an outside source… Thinking I wouldn’t figure it out that it’s you... That, and before a few months ago, there’s no trace of you.”

No trace? Does that mean—

“I asked around. I looked you up in the database.”

Caroline narrows her eyes, then swallows thickly. She knows what he found—or, lack thereof. “What exactly are you implying, Felix?”

Felix straightens this shoulders. “I'm implying that…”

“Felix,” Arden begins.

“No, AK,” Caroline interrupts, “Let him say what he wants. Besides, I told you I’d tell you the truth.” She steps forward until she’s less than inches from Felix’s face. “So I guess I’ll start now.”

Felix’s face doesn’t waver from the harsh expression it wears.

“First, Caroline is my real name. Second, there’s no trace of me because I had my identity wiped off the record. Why? I’ve been undercover for the rebel alliance in One for the past four months. A Peacekeeper force headed by Paylor’s orders killed my father, all because he defied an order by Clyd. When that happened, I decided I couldn’t just sit around and let another dictator rise; I had to do something. So I took matters into my own hands. I finished my training at the academy and determined to get as high clearance in the Peacekeeper force as possible. And I did. I’ve risked my life, defied my superiors, and broken laws to do what I know is right. And I will continue to do so until the day I die.

“If you don’t want to help, fine, but your pretty little partner over there has already given me what I need. If you want to turn me in, that’s fine too. My cover is burned anyway. It won’t do any good. It’ll only help  _ her _ get what she wants. And if you can live with it, go ahead. But I’m not going to go down without a fight. If you want to turn me in, you’ll have to kill me first. Got it?”

Felix looks at Arden, who nods.

“Got it,” he says, “I won't turn you in. I believe you, and Arden seems to trust you. I've no idea what happened between you two to make her change her mind, but whatever you've offered, no one would go through all that if they were lying.”

“Thank you,” Caroline replies.

“But I still don't know anything about this resistance, or what Paylor’s done wrong. Or if I can trust you just yet.”

“I'll tell you both everything once I talk to my contact.”

Felix nods, and Arden turns to Caroline. “What now?”

“Now, we look at the files.”

“Files?” Felix asks, “What f—”

Cutting him off, Caroline quickly explains to him about the files. 

“Oh,” he says, “So now we're not just sneaking around, we're stealing government secrets, too.” He pushes his hand through his hair. His voice goes up. “That's great, just great.”

“How are we going to look at the files?” Arden’s face twists in confusion. “There's no electricity, and we're using a cloning hard drive--which, last I checked, needed a computer.”

“This isn't just any hard drive,” Caroline says. She holds her hand out for Arden to hand it to her, and she does. Their eyes meet when their fingers brush. “See, if you hit this button here…”

Light flares up from the device.

“We don’t need power. The device  _ is  _ the power source. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah...” Arden says. Felix still looks confused as to what is going on.

“Where did you get that?” he asks.

“Where I got it doesn't matter,” Caroline says as a hologram rises from the device. Once it's loaded, she begins swiping through pages of folders.

“What are we looking for?” Arden asks.

“Anything that can give my contact an advantage,” Caroline says. She continues to scroll through page after page of folders.

It isn’t long before she finds what she’s looking for: a folder labeled ‘D2 Incident Reports.’ A similar one labelled ‘D1’ is above; Caroline doesn’t have to look at it to know what it says about her home.

“Is that…” Felix begins when Caroline opens one of the files contained in the folder.

“The Nut? Yeah.” Caroline zooms in on the schematics, and, when she doesn’t see anything particularly damning there, backs out to the source folder. Looking for any documents authorizing increased military action. She gives a whoop when she finds one.

“What?” Arden asks.

“Here.” Caroline uses her finger to highlight the words on the hologram. “It’s an order to the Peacekeepers stationed in the upper districts. From Paylor.”

_ IN DISTRICTS ONE AND TWO, USE FORCE AS NECESSARY. IF THE CITIZENS DO NOT COMPLY, I HAVE PRECAUTIONARY MEASURES IN PLACE TO ENSURE FURTHER CONTROL. _

“‘Use force as necessary’?” Arden echoes. “‘Ensure further control’?”

Remembering their earlier conversation, Caroline asks, “How’s that for proof?”

Arden doesn’t speak for a long moment.

“I still don’t believe it,” she says after a pause. “Things were supposed to be different this time.”

“They will be,” Caroline assures, “You have my word. Things  _ will  _ be different. Now that we have this, Paylor’s power won’t last. Once I get this to my contact, my side should have the edge we need to get ahead.”

“Good,” Arden replies. When Caroline looks at her, she sees resolve in her eyes; her decision is made. “I’ll do everything I can to help. Felix?” Arden looks to her partner, who has been silent since Caroline pulled up the order. He startles out of his quiet.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

“Great,” Caroline says. “As soon as the power comes back, I’ll get a message to my contact. I’ll need both of your help to get my cover back on track.”


End file.
